


Don't Even Take This Bet

by orphan_account



Series: Endless Nighttime Sky [1]
Category: Death Spells, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Reggie and the Full Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Blood Drinking, M/M, Vampire Gerard Way, Vampires, William Beckett is mentioned like twice, and maybe Brendon Urie too, kind of background/referenced peterick idek how to describe it, there's gonna be a ton of a little less sixteen candles references so sue me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-01 17:07:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 61,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4027993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a vampire tends to automatically mean immortality, so Gerard had come to terms with the fact that relationships probably wouldn't work out very well for him. But what if, somehow, he manages to keep meeting the same guy (or sometimes girl) over and over again, through different lives? Gerard will keep falling in love with Frank over and over again, meeting all these different versions of him, none of them remembering him, and seeing him die more times than he'd like. He spends decades after each death searching for him, so when he can't find him for nearly 70 years, he starts to lose hope. That is, until it reappears again, suddenly and completely unexpected, in the form of a cute guy screaming on a stage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Gerard, you do know you have to actually  _get up_ from time to time?" Pete asks, standing in the doorway to Gerard's bedroom, watching as he attempts to shrug - and fails - from his position stretched out on the bed, face pressed into the pillow.

"Sleep is better," he finally responds, turning his head to the side so that it comes out as slightly more than an incoherent mumble, not bothering to open his eyes.

"You're gonna end up starving, dude. This is an all time record, I'm sure. What is it, three days, now?"

Gerard half-shrugs again, "Who cares. Sleep." 

"Wow. Really articulate," Pete says, rolling his eyes, "don't make me open the curtains."

Gerard opens one eye at this, "You wouldn't dare," he says, squinting up at Pete in the darkness, "or you'd get a punch in the face if you did," he adds, as an afterthought.

"Just cause I'm shorter than you-" he pauses to move to the other side of the room, taking less than a second to position himself next to the window, his speed making Gerard feel  _tired_ just from looking. Okay, sure, he can move just as fast, if not faster thanks to Pete's midget-legs, but that doesn't mean it doesn't look exhausting after spending three solid days in bed, "-doesn't mean I'm not stronger than you."

Gerard sighs, twisting himself round into a sitting position and scowling at his roommate, "Fuck you."

Pete just grins at him, disappearing out of the room, just to reappear a second later, "If you go back to sleep again so help me I will set all your comics on fire," he tells Gerard, disappearing for a second time as Gerard slowly climbs out of bed, picking an old and probably dirty t-shirt off of the floor and pulling it over his head.

"And he rises from the dead," Gerard hears Patrick comment as he stumbles into the kitchen, reaching blindly for the coffee pot, not bothering to try and figure out what Pete and Patrick are doing with a bunch of nonsense spread out across the coffee table.

"Yeah, I wish," he replies, finally wrapping a hand around the handle of the glass pot, quickly deciding that the coffee inside is still vaguely warm enough to drink, then pouring it into one of the chipped mugs lined up on the counter, "more hunting?" he questions, raising an eyebrow when he sits in the armchair across from the other two.

"Yeah, vampires suck."

"Thanks," Gerard and Pete say in unison.

"Oh shut up, you guys know what I mean. The vampires that like to start gangs and kill a shit ton of people suck, rather than the ones spend weeks at a time in bed or watch crappy reality TV shows like you two do."

"They're not  _that_ crappy," Pete protests, just as Gerard says, "I doubt we're normal cases."

"Whatever," Patrick says, "vampire still suck, and yeah, Pete, they really are that crappy."

Pete frowns at him, pulling a face. Gerard rolls his eyes at both of them, "You should've seen what it was like before everyone knew about us. Like, there was so many more killings because it was easier to get away with. I bet Jack the Ripper was a vampire."

"Jack the Ripper wasn't a vampire, Gerard," Patrick says, sounding exasperated, which he tended to 90% of the time, when around Pete and Gerard.

"How do you know?" Pete asks, "You weren't alive then."

"Yeah, neither were you, dumbass," Gerard counters.

"Shut up, I was trying to defend your point, old man."

Gerard scowls at Pete again, trying to keep his threatening look while taking a sip of coffee, which just ends up with him almost spilling half of it down his front. So much for vampires having better coordination or more agility, neither of which Gerard has.

"We've gotta go," Patrick says suddenly, nudging Pete and standing up to shove some of the things scattered across the table into a bag, "before the others start complaining again."

"Okay, yeah, yeah, whatever," Pete says, following Patrick towards the door, stopping to turn back to Gerard after he's grabbed a jacket and shoes. "Try and like, go outside or some shit, or, I dunno,  _socialise?"_

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen. Ever."

"Why not? Who knows, you might finally meet the love of your life  _again_ ," he says with a smirk, managing to shut the door fast enough to avoid the book Gerard had thrown at his head. Which, he thinks, was actually a pretty good shot and  _would've_ hit Pete if he hadn't decided to move.

Gerard sighed, swallowing down the last dregs of his coffee and standing up, walking round to the kitchen to dump his mug in the sink, before going back to his bedroom and maneuvering through the mess on his floor, ready to collapse on the bed again. His phone buzzes on the nightstand just before he gets the chance, sighing when he realises that it's a text from Pete. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he picks up the phone and reads the message, "You better not be going to sleep now or I'll kick your ass when I get home."

Gerard sighs again, typing out a quick reply of, "I'm gonna sleep and there's nothing you can do about it," before throwing his phone down somewhere on the mess of the floor and finally lying back down in bed, burying his head in the pillow.

He only gets a few moments of peace though, because minutes later his phone is ringing, shrill and loud, too loud to tune out, and he knows Pete won't give up after one call. He drags himself round to the side of the bed, leaning over without sitting up and managing to find his phone again buried under a pair of jeans. Which, Gerard thinks, makes no sense whatsoever because he knows for a fact that the jeans have been there at least a week, while his phone only a couple of minutes.

"You can't stop me from sleeping. I'm a grown man," Gerard says the second he picks up.

"I can definitely stop you from sleeping," Pete retorts, "seriously, man,  _socialise_. I don't know who you even talked to before I forced my way into your life and dragged Patrick, Joe and Andy along."

"I knew people," Gerard says, pouting despite the fact that no one could see him, "now I have you and the other guys, so I don't need to bother making new friends."

"We're not gonna be here forever," Pete says, sounding  _way_ too serious for Pete fucking Wentz.

" _You_ are."

"Shut up, you still need to  _talk to people_. You haven't left the apartment in months, I'm sure."

"I went downstairs for the post, like, just last week."

"Out of the  _building_ , then."

"Okay, that's besides the point."

"Whatever, go talk to someone. You say you're always looking for this guy-" he says, pausing when Gerard interrupts to remind him that they're not  _always_ a guy, "-okay, whatever. You say you're always looking for them, but you haven't spoken to anyone outside of me and the  _three_ other people that sometimes come to our apartment. There's no way you're gonna find them if you just sleep for most of your life."

"It's been over  _half a century_ , Pete. What makes you think I'll actually _ever_ meet them again?" Gerard asks, not being able to help that he's started to get a bit frustrated. When he was younger - a lot,  _lot_ younger - and still human, he met this guy, Frank, and the two of them fell in love quicker than Gerard could've imagined. They had to keep it a complete secret from their families - homosexuality in the 1700s  _definitely_ wasn't a hugely celebrated thing - even having to marry other women their families had arranged them to. Frank had even stayed with him after he had been turned, amazingly, since vampires were even more feared than gay people back then. Frank had died way too young from tuberculosis, leaving Gerard depressed, in an unhappy marriage and stuck with a family that mostly hated him, after finding out about his and Frank's relationship after his death.

Gerard had completely given up, even though he and Frank didn't have much time together - barely a decade - he still couldn't think how he'd go on without him. He ran away from his family, his marriage, even his brother, the only person that actually cared about him. He found other vampires, spending most of his time hunting or sleeping, completely forgetting any kind of moral code he thought he'd have as a vampire when he was still with Frank. He killed; humans, other vampires if they got in his way. Anyone. More people than his conscience can now take. What finally stopped him was others vampires, enemies he'd probably built up with his actions, finding his brother, Mikey, and threatening Gerard with him. He had tried to do anything to stop anything from happening to him, but just ended up with a vampire Mikey being dumped on his doorstep. 

They had stuck together for a while; Mikey trying to stop Gerard from  _still_ being depressed about Frank's death. A couple of decades after he'd died though, Gerard met him again. He'd been freaked out for months after, until he finally got the courage to talk to him again. He was still Frank, he was younger, he looked slightly different, but still recognisably Frank. He didn't understand what it meant, didn't say anything to him. He told Mikey, because he had recognised him too, and neither of them understood it. It was still definitely  _Frank_. His name, looks, and the fact that he and Gerard ended up in yet another secret relationship could be put down to coincidence, but anyone that had known the old Frank, would hardly be able to tell the difference. They both talked the same, acted the same, made the same kind of jokes. They were the same person, somehow. _  
_

Gerard tried not to overthink it too much, just being thankful that Frank was with him again. Though, another few decades after this Frank's death - this time he'd died in his late 30s, which was pretty impressive for then - he met him again. He kept coming back, as Frank's and Franklin's and Francesca's and Frankie's. Once Gerard realised what was going on, reincarnation or  _whatever_ , he'd spend the majority of his time when he wasn't with Frank, trying to find him. Except now. The last time he'd met Frank, was back in the 40s, they were both soldiers, and met while fighting abroad. They didn't know each other for long, and Frank died in battle. The worst part was that he had died trying to _save_ Gerard. He didn't know about him yet, and Gerard was about to be shot, which he would've  _survived_ , because, you know, _immortal_ , but Frank pushed him out of the way, jumping in front instead, and died within minutes. 

This made it all worse, because now Gerard hadn't found Frank again since, and had given up on trying a while ago. He complained to Pete constantly, and it was fair enough that he'd started to get fed up with the fact that Gerard didn't even bother to try and find this guy he never seemed to stop thinking about.

"Don't think like that," Pete says, sighing slightly.

"He could be in fucking England for all I know."

"Or he could be sitting in the Starbucks across the street."

"If you're trying to get me to go there, it's not gonna work. We have a perfectly good coffee machine at home."

Pete sighs again, "What about your brother? You never talk about him anymore."

"Yeah, last time I checked he hates me."

"Okay, uh, what about that guy upstairs? Didn't you say he was cool?"

"I said he had cool taste in music, because I can hear it like 90% of the time. I've never actually spoken to him. And he's human."

"Yeah, so are 3 out of 4 of your only friends. And the guy you're always obsessing over."

"Shut up, that's not important. Everyone knows about vampires know, it's harder to actually make friends with humans, unless you were before, like you."

"Okay, whatever. Tomorrow, we're going out to a bar or  _something_. If you say no I'll search the entire fucking country until I find Frank and then I'll tell him to avoid you at all costs."

"You have his first name, that's it. He might not even be a he. Or a Frank. You don't even know what he looks like."

"Oh, I've seen your notebook with all your sketches and photos of him. It's very sweet."

"Fucking hell, you went through my shit?"

"You leave it lying everywhere, dude, it's not hard."

"Fuck you, I hate you."

"I know you do," he says with a laugh, and then the line goes dead.


	2. Chapter 2

"Please tell me that's not what you're wearing," Pete says, looking Gerard up and down in his baggy sweats and t-shirt, as he steps out from his bedroom, stopping in the doorway when he sees Pete.

"What? I wear this, like, every day."

"Yeah, I can smell. And I mean _out_ , like in _public_? No way are you wearing that."

Gerard groans, trying to refrain from slamming his head against the door frame he's standing in, "I thought you'd forget."

"Definitely not, you've been a complete hermit for months and months, I'm not gonna forget about the one plan you have to leave the house."

"It's not _my_ plan. I never even agreed to it."

"Yeah, but you know what I'll do if you back out."

"Dude, I searched for him for _decades_. There's no way you'd find him in, like, a day."

"Whatever, I'd find a way. Now put some decent clothes on."

"Like what?"

"Like those jeans that show off your ass and, like, a leather jacket or something, that'll make you look hot."

"I'm not _trying_ to pick up guys, and I thought you were straight."

"How dare you accuse me of such a thing? Anyway, being straight doesn't mean you don't know what looks good, well, most of the time. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to meet _someone_ , I mean, come on, 70 years is a _long_ time. There are more people in the world other than Frank."

"Not for me."

"Oh, stop being so romantically poetic and depressed and go make yourself look hot."

"Wow, thanks Pete, you should be a motivational speaker. Great advice, really," Gerard says, rolling his eyes, stepping back into his bedroom and shutting the door in Pete's face, then turning to look at the mess that is his room and attempting to salvage some decent looking clothes that don't smell as unwashed as they all are.

After digging through several different things, some which Gerard is pretty sure are Pete's, or, at least, not _his_ , he manages to find the jeans he's sure Pete was talking about and, after spraying them with copious amounts of febreeze, squeezes into them, throwing on a band t-shirt and a new enough leather jacket over it. He bends down quickly to check himself in the mirror hanging over his dresser, messing with his hair a bit before shrugging and heading back out into the hallway, where Pete is still standing, now with a jacket and shoes.

"Hurry the fuck up," Pete says, watching Gerard as he walks over to the row of shoes lined up next to the door, slipping on his boots and slowly, _too_ slowly for Pete, tying up the laces.

"I'm just going at normal, y'know, _human_ , speed."

"Yeah, okay, but the thing is you're _not_ human," Pete retorts, moving quickly to stand in front of Gerard, fixing his hair and jacket for him, "and there are no humans here right now, so you don't have to even attempt to look or act normal."

"The longest trips I've taken in the past few weeks is from my bedroom to the kitchen so I don't die of thirst, or to get coffee, so I'm not used to moving fast. Especially after spending the last three days sleeping. I'm _tired_."

Pete rolls his eyes, opening the door and dragging Gerard out of it faster than he'd like to move, "You'd think after  _three days_  sleeping, you'd be at least a little bit awake by now."

"No way, over-sleeping makes you just as tired as under-sleeping."

"Then why do you  _do it?"_

Gerard shrugs as they step into the elevator, "Nothing better to do. Sleep is good."

"You can sleep when you're dead."

"We kind of  _are_."

Pete sighs, "Forgive me, for not using the correct terminology for whatever the hell you can call us when we're corpses then."

"Shut up, you're so annoying."

"I know, it's great."

Gerard just sighs, trying to ignore Pete's shit-eating grin next to him.

"Tonight," Pete starts, going serious again, "you're gonna stop thinking about your missing boyfriend, or your unwillingness to get out of bed, or about the fact that your brother supposedly hates you, even though you never even told me what that was about, and that the rest of your family is dead. Be-"

"Thanks for that reminder, you're the best, Pete."

"-cause tonight we're just gonna relax. In public. For the first time in, like, 10 years. And you're welcome."

"Me in public really isn't a good thing. You should probably rethink your plans. It's really not too late to turn around and watch bad horror movies, and I'm pretty sure we've still got some packets in the fridge, if you've bothered to go to the store."

"No, you don't get to complain about that, you haven't left the house in months, you're lucky I buy you stuff at _all_. You in public is definitely a good idea because I'm pretty sure at this point it's gonna reaches stages of reverse-evolution and you're gonna start forgetting how to actually _interact_ with _people_. Besides, we can now take advantage of the benefits of the existence of vampires now being public and accepted. I mean, sure, we have some bags of crappy frozen blood, but at bars now you can get _shots_ , with, like, vodka and stuff mixed in."

"That sounds gross," Gerard says, pulling a face as they step out into the cold night, Pete trying to hail a cab straight away, "they wouldn't mix at all, it sounds lumpy and gross and weird."

"Oh, come on, we might as well try it," Pete says, getting the attention of one driver, "I haven't had the chance before, it's no fun to do shots alone, and Patrick isn't really down for vodka-blood shots."

"Yeah, I don't blame him," Gerard says as the two of them climb into the back of the cab, both wordlessly agreeing that the conversation is now over, because no matter how accepting society has become over recent years, discussing the consistency of vodka and blood and whether it would make a good combination, probably wouldn't be something humans would want to listen in on.

Pete gives the name of the bar to the driver, before sitting back and watching Gerard in silence for several minutes, the look he's giving him undecipherable.

"What is it now?" Gerard asks, exasperated.

"Just try to relax tonight, there's live music at the bar and there's good drinks and cool people. Don't think about Frank."

"I try, it just doesn't tend to work. Especially when you remind me of him every two seconds."

"Right, sorry. Just, it's been sev- a long time," Pete says; human don't tend to like to be reminded of the fact that some of them are centuries old, either, "maybe it's time to move on."

Gerard scoffs, "That's never gonna happen."

"Well, a man can dream."

 

They arrive at the bar sometime after ten, and Pete had started to worry that they'd missed some of the music, because according to him some of the best undiscovered bands play here, but he lets out a sigh of relief when they step inside, seeing the small stage on the far left still being set up, instruments being carried on stage and sound checks being done.

"How about we get a drink?" Pete asks, leading Gerard over to the bar.

"Sounds like a perfect idea if you want me to actually talk to people here."

"You're _definitely_ gonna talk to people here."

"Great," Gerard replies sarcastically, taking a seat at the bar, eyes darting over the menu quickly. "I don't know what half of these things are."

"Good, then you won't object when I order them for us."

Gerard sighs, all but dropping his head on the table, "I'm so great at picking friends."

"You know it."

"Please, try to be as least-experimental as possible."

"I'm still getting us some kind of shots."

"I wouldn't expect any less, from you."

Pete flashes Gerard a grin, turning to the bartender and ordering two god-knows-whats for them, and Gerard can only pray that whatever it is still leaves him with taste buds and no liver damage.

The shots get placed in front of them after a couple of minutes of Gerard watching the bartender, with ever-growing worry, as he mixed together some strange concoction for them. Gerard glanced down at the small glass, filled with a strange orange-y colour, and smelling distinctly of blood and just alcohol in general.

"Don't chicken out," Pete reminds him, grabbing his glass.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Gerard replies, picking up his own glass, already filled with regret before he's even done anything, and then he's throwing the mixture down his throat as quickly as he can, seeing Pete doing the same out of the corner of his eye. It burns, like any liqueur, but accompanied with the sickly-sweet satisfaction that only comes from drinking blood, Gerard finds himself actually, kind of, liking it.

"Okay, I'm definitely all for alcoholic blood now," Pete says, grinning again, making Gerard roll his eyes, before turning his attention to the band now walking onstage.

 

The first band doesn't play for long, with only a couple of songs on their set, but Gerard can agree with Pete; they definitely have awesome undiscovered bands.

"See, I told you they had cool music. And good alcohol, too."

"Yeah, okay, I never disagreed with you. They were pretty cool, but I can't say the same about whatever the fuck that green thing was." While the band had been playing, Pete decided to experiment more, now that he finally had another vampire to drink with, and kept ordering various weird and wonderful things for Gerard to try with him, some of which were pretty good, like the first, others not so much.

The second band starts setting up as Pete starts to order _another_ drink, and the second he sees the lead singer step on stage, adjusting the microphone to his height, Gerard feels everything stop; his heart stop beating - if it actually is, in the first place - his breathing catch in his throat, everyone around him suddenly moving in slow motion, almost coming to a stop.

"Pete," he manages to choke out, grabbing his arm and probably squeezing way too tight, but he can't care enough to notice, not when all his attention is focused on the guy now standing to the edge of the stage, talking to the other member about something. He can't stop staring, and he knows it would be creepy if the majority of the people in the bar weren't also looking towards the stage, but either way, he can't tear his eyes away. He's too far away to see anything properly, but there's no doubt in his mind about who it is. He takes in every part of him; the huge grin spread across his face, albeit slightly nervous one, the way his short hair had started to stick up in several directions, messy in the best way, the too-big black jumper and how it hangs off his shoulders, making him look even smaller, and the dark ink across his hands and neck, making Gerard's breath catch,  _again_.

"Okay, okay, Gerard, the alcohols coming," Pete jokes, laughing for a moment, but it catches in his throat when he turns, seeing the expression on Gerard's face and the seriousness, and pure shock, in it. "Gerard? What is it? Is something wrong?"

"Pete," he repeats, squeezing harder, not exactly knowing how to express the thoughts running through his head right now. "Pete, that's- that's...that's _him_. It's Frank."


	3. Chapter 3

"Frank as in _the_ Frank?" Pete asks, looking around to try and find where Gerard was staring.

"Yes, _the_ fucking Frank. I- fucking _hell_ , Pete, what do I do?"

"Just, uh, go over and talk to him, I guess? Introduce yourself? Maybe flirt a bit," he says with a wink, "Where is he?"

"On the _stage_."

"Oh, right. Shit."

"That's _him_. He's- he's just how I remember him. He's _here_...I can't-" Gerard stutters, now starting to breath way too much and only able to tear his eyes away for a minute to look at Pete.

"Gerard, calm down. He's right there, okay? And he's not going anywhere. Breathe. _Slowly_."

Gerard nods, trying to calm his breathing, which _really_  isn't working, especially now the music has started up, filling the room, along with _Frank's_ voice. His eyes dart back to him, watching intently as Frank sings into the microphone, eyes closed, his face showing the emotions of the song clearly. Gerard sighs, his heart aching to be near Frank, because, after all time away from him, he'd forgotten how much he misses him. When he'd given up his searching, he'd given up most hope of ever seeing Frank again, and therefore was actively trying to forget about him whenever he caught himself thinking about him again. But now, with Frank right there, in the same _room_ as him, it's as if all the emotions from the past few years that he'd kept suppressing, all came rushing back. And it  _hurt_.

Mostly, Gerard wants to just wrap Frank in a hug, pull him close and know that he's there. But the worst part of all this is that's exactly what he _can't_ do. Even if he manages to talk to Frank somehow, and even if they do hit it off, and Frank likes him, he still doesn't _know_ him. Gerard has all these memories of him; memories from all these different lives of his, enough to fill at least several hundred scrapbooks, and yet Frank wouldn't share any of them. He could walk right past Gerard, not recognising him. He'd see him as a stranger.

Gerard tries to distract himself, to stop thinking about the horrible inevitability of having to introduce himself to the one person he knows the most _again_. He instead tries to focus on the music,  _Frank's_ music. He tries to let himself get into the music, listen to the lyrics and just lose himself in it, like everyone else in the crowd, but it was so  _hard_ when it was Frank up there. Gerard had never seen him before like this - in such a modern situation. He and the other member of the band were both standing by stands with technology Gerard knows he couldn't even hope to understand. Frank with  _tattoos_ , too, is definitely something Gerard hadn't seen before, but could definitely get behind, and Frank in skinny jeans, too. What gets him the most, though, is how _into_ it Frank is; he's singing - and screaming - with his whole heart, his eyes still pressed shut, not even looking when he keeps leaning over to adjust something on the board. He moves with the music, clinging to the microphone with both hands when one isn't moving; running through his hair or shifting the wire or pulling at the edge of his jumper. 

Their set ends too quickly for Gerard, and when they start saying thank you and packing up their stuff, he panics, looking back at Pete.

"He's gonna leave," he says, his eyes wide.

"Relax, come on, let's find him," Pete says, jumping down off the bar stool and dragging Gerard with him, starting to head in the direction of the stage. They weave their way through people, dancing and talking and moving, trying to squeeze through to the front, or at least the side.

"There's too many people here," Gerard complains, his voice barely reaching Pete through the noise.

"Tell me about it," he replies, finally reaching the side of the stage, pulling Gerard with him again, and just as they get out of the main crowd, they see Frank, along with the other band member, and some guys helping them carry their stuff, leaving through the back door.

" _Pete_ ," Gerard says, panic back in his voice.

"Crap, I thought he'd stay for a drink or something. We could, uh, go after him? I guess?"

"And say what? 'Hey, you don't know me but I'm immortal and you keep getting reincarnated and we always fall in love, can I have your number?'"

Pete sighs, "I don't know, man."

"I don't even know his full  _name_."

"But we know he's in the city."

"It's a big city."

"You shouldn't be so pessimistic."

" _70 years_. And then I see him for 10 minutes performing and he's gone again. It's hard not to be."

Pete sighs, "Wait here a second." And before Gerard can object, he's disappearing into the crowd, in what Gerard thinks is the vague direction of the bar.

 

Gerard is standing against the wall, trying not to get in anyone's way, when Pete reappears again.

"Death Spells," he tells Gerard, looking pleased with himself, "that's the name of his band. The bartender didn't know anything else, but that's enough, right?"

"I hope so."

 

Gerard manages to convince Pete to go home right then, because now that he has the name of his band, just one  _tiny_ link to Frank, he couldn't wait to get home and probably be way too stalker-y. 

"Try not to be too creepy and find out everything about him," Pete says in the cab home, "you already know more about him than he does about you, you're gonna act weird enough when you two finally meet."

"I need to make sure we  _do_ meet, first."

"Okay, fair enough, but I'm gonna find some way to put a website or search blocker on your laptop if you end up spending hours googling him."

"I'm not gonna spend  _hours_."

"Yeah, right."

 

To be fair, Gerard doesn't end up spending hours  _solidly_ , but in any spare time - which is, most of the time - he finds himself refreshing the Death Spells website over and over again to find out about upcoming shows, which is, so far, none, and scrolling through pages and pages of pictures of Frank from various shows.

Now, he's on his laptop in the living room, doing exactly that, when Pete comes in with two coffees, handing one to Gerard before sitting down across from him. Gerard sighs, closing his laptop and dumping it on the coffee table in front of him.

"I hate my life," he says, looking at Pete seriously.

"So you've told me."

"It's been a  _week_. I'm no closer to finding him than I was before we saw him."

"Well, you have his full name and his band name, that'll probably prove to help somehow, eventually."

"Eventually could be ten years."

"I really doubt it'll take that long, have hope."

"I did. Half a century ago."

"You know, I'm amazed I'm not horribly depressed or pessimistic, at least, yet, having you as a roommate. You're really miserable, like, a hundred percent of the time."

"You have Patrick. He practically lives with us, too, and he's, like, the most optimistic person I know."

"Yeah, compared to  _you_."

"What about me?" Patrick asks, coming in through the front door, kicking off his shoes before coming over and sitting down with the other two.

"You're more optimistic than Gerard."

"Yeah, so's just about everyone on planet Earth."

"Are you implying that there's pessimistic aliens out there?" Gerard asks, raising one eyebrow and smirking ever so slightly.

"You smiled!" Pete exclaims, grinning triumphantly. 

"No I didn't, fuck you."

Patrick rolls his eyes at the two of them, "So you still didn't find that guy?" he asks, taking Pete's mug out of his hands and taking a sip, then handing it back.

Gerard shakes his head, hugging his coffee to his chest, craving the heat.

"You'll find him eventually," Patrick says.

"Yeah, that's what Pete said, we established that eventually could be a long time."

"But what matters is that you actually find him, right?"

Gerard shrugs, "I mean, sure, all that really matters is I actually get the chance to meet him again, cause I never thought I would after I couldn't find him for longer than normal, but I want to meet him  _now_ ," he whines.

"For a several hundred year old, you can really sound like a little kid sometimes," Pete says, before getting hit in the face with a cushion, courtesy of Gerard, and spilling his coffee everywhere.

"Whoops," Gerard says, giving him an exaggerated grin as Patrick drags him to the kitchen to make sure none of it stains.

Listening to the sounds of the tap running and Patrick saying something-or-other, Gerard stares at his laptop, contemplating whether or not to open it back up and stare at more pictures of Frank, when there's a loud knock on the door.

"Get the door!" Gerard hears Pete yell, muffled by the walls, and he sighs, pushing himself up and hoping he doesn't look too much like he hasn't gotten changed or showered in days, which he hasn't.

"Hel-" Gerard starts as he pulls the door open, the word getting stuck in throat when it's actually open because it's  _Frank_. Again. Except this time he's at his front door, not on a stage in a random bar, and Gerard's sure that if he could have a heart attack, he'd be having one right now. Frank's hair is ever so slightly tidier than it had been at the bar, and he's wearing another pair of black skinny jeans, and a long sleeved shirt that's  _perfectly_ tight, the sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms, showing off even more tattoos that Gerard wants to stare at for hours.

"Um, hey," Frank says, rubbing the back of his neck and looking embarrassed, "I'm Frank, I'm, uh, staying with my friend - he lives on the floor above - and he's not home right now, and I was just about to shower, but there was this spider there, and I'm  _really_ not a spider person, so I was wondering if you could like, uh, help? Please?" 

Gerard tries not to laugh - or cry - because, honestly, this situation is  _ridiculous_. For one, Frank had been just upstairs  _this whole time_ , when Gerard thought he'd have to search the entire city to find him again, and now he was here,  _at Gerard's front door_ , because there's a spider in his shower. "You want me to kill a spider for you?" he asks, and he's pretty sure he's never loved spiders more.

"Not- not kill," Frank says suddenly, eyes wide, "just, like, get rid of. Somehow. I mean, they're not doing anything, so they don't really deserve to just  _die_."

"Okay," Gerard says, not being able to hide his smile, because this is  _Frank_ , "fair enough." _  
_

"So you'll help?" Frank asks, looking hopeful.

"Yeah, of course," he says, stepping out the door and shutting it behind him, following Frank up the stairs.

"Oh, I never got your name," Frank says, smiling awkwardly.

"Gerard."

"Gerard," Frank repeats with another smile, "nice to meet you, Gerard."

"Nice to meet you too, Frank."


	4. Chapter 4

"Can I ask you something?" Frank says as he leads Gerard into the apartment, "Like, before you save my life."

Gerard laughs, "Spiders aren't _that_ dangerous."

"Spiders are scary motherfuckers."

"That doesn't mean they can actually hurt you."

"They so can. They're out to get me, I know it."

"Yeah, totally," Gerard says, rolling his eyes despite the smile plastered across his face, which he can't help at all because this is _Frank_. This is the happiest he's been in years. "What was your question?"

"Oh, right, uh," Frank says, stopping and frowning, "are you, like, uh..." he says, making some weird gesture that Gerard  _thinks_  is supposed to be fangs.

"Uh, yeah. I think, if you're trying to say what I think you are," Gerard says, trying not to laugh at the face Frank's making. "If you're not, like, comfortable or-" he says, looking back towards the door.

"No, no, it's fine. I just...you were really pale and I was curious," Frank says, blushing slightly and looking down, "sorry, I've never met a, uh, vampire before."

"And you thought-" Gerard starts, mimicking Frank's fang gesture, "-was the best way to ask me?" he asks, not bothering to hide the fact that he's laughing anymore.

"Shut up," Frank says, blushing even more, "it's an awkward question to ask, don't blame me."

Gerard laughs again, feeling his heart swell at the embarrassed look because he missed just being able to _interact_ with him, "So, where's the spider?" 

"Here," he says, leading Gerard further into the apartment, to the side where the bathroom is, stopping and standing in the doorway and pointing to the bottom of the shower, "it's a fucking monster."

Gerard squeezes past Frank, peering round to get a better view of whatever the hell it was, "Okay, yeah, that's huge," he agrees, "do you have, like, a cup and some paper?"

"Uh, I'll try and find some," Frank says, disappearing back through the door. He returns a moment later, holding out the two items, looking pleased with himself.

"Thanks," Gerard says, taking them and bending down in front of the shower.

"So, do you guys actually have to, like, hide from the sun?" Frank asks out of nowhere from behind him.

"Uh, kind of, I guess," Gerard replies, trying to slowly move the cup over the spider without making it run away, "it's like, our body clocks are messed up so it's hard to wake up in the morning and sleep at night, it'd be like you having to go to sleep at 10 in the morning then waking up in the evening, it's weird. So we're hardly awake when the suns out anyway. But we can go outside, sort of, but we burn  _really_ easily, so not really for long."

"Oh, cool," Frank says, shuffling forward a bit and peering over Gerard's shoulder, then jumping back again, letting out a tiny squeak as he does so, "oh, god, it's moving."

"It's gonna come and  _eat_ you," Gerard says, successfully trapping it under the cup, then turning to look at Frank over his shoulder, grinning.

" _No_ , no way, I will run out of this apartment and lock you in with it if it comes near me, so help me."

"Aw, come on, I'm sure they're friendly," Gerard says, sliding the paper underneath the cup and picking it up, turning round and holding it out towards Frank.

" _Don't_ come near me with that thing," Frank says, practically jumping away again.

"They can't be  _that_ scary," Gerard says, moving over to the window and pulling it open.

"They  _are_ , it's like if- I dunno, what are you scared of?"

"Needles," Gerard answers, straight away, without thought.

"It's like if I came and pointed a needle towards you, then. Wait, needles, seriously?"

"They  _hurt_."

"You're a  _vampire_ , how do you think being bitten feels?"

"Okay, that kinda hurts, but it's different. It's like, duller, and it's kinda nice, I think it's something in the venom."

"How do you know? I didn't think vampires would drink vampire blood."

"How do you think I  _became_ a vampire in the first place?" Gerard asks, and, remembering the spider still trapped in his hands, leans over to the window to throw it out. _  
_

"Oh, right, yeah," Frank says, blushing again, and yeah, no, Gerard  _really_ shouldn't be thinking about Frank's blood like that.

"Okay, the spider's gone," Gerard says, trying to stop thinking about Frank's blood, because that's  _definitely_ not a good idea. He'd never drunken from Frank before, he'd said he was fine with it, even  _asked_ , sometimes, but Gerard didn't trust his self-control enough. The last time he'd actually had to drink from a person - before the existence of vampires became a public thing, and the government decided the best way to keep people safe was to make blood accessible to vampires, by selling it, of course - was after Frank had died in the war, after he'd given up hope on finding him again; the second time he let himself lose control, the first being after Frank died the first time, before Gerard knew reincarnation, or  _whatever_ the hell this was, could happen. In that whole period, before he was almost killed by Pete, who decided to give him the second chance that he needed, he ended up killing person after innocent person, normally finding them in a bar, hooking up and then drinking them dry. Gerard didn't know if he'd even be able to stop if he started drinking from someone, now. He couldn't take that risk with Frank.

"Oh, you're my savior. My knight in shining armour," Frank says, putting a hand to his chest and fake-swooning.

Gerard laughs, rolling his eyes at Frank's fluttering eyes, "You're welcome."

"Is coffee a good enough repayment? My friend's got an awesome coffee machine that doesn't work 9 out of 10 times."

"Coffee is more than enough," Gerard says following Frank back through to the kitchen, watching in silence as he fiddles with the coffee machine, listening to it coughing and spluttering, before letting a few drops of dirty water drip into the pot.

"Okay, this isn't gonna work," Frank sighs, picking up the pot and examining the few drops inside it, "yeah, ew, definitely not," he adds, putting it back down.

"I've got a coffee machine downstairs in my apartment, I could make some for us downstairs?"

"Now I'm gonna owe you double," Frank says, but follows Gerard out of the apartment and down the stairs regardless.

"I'm sure you can find some way to repay me," Gerard replies, opening his front door when they reach it, stepping aside and holding it open for Frank.

"Oh, what a gentleman," Frank jokes, followed in by Gerard, where they're instantly greeted, or, not so much, by Pete.

"Where did you- oh," Pete says, giving Gerard a look that is way too obvious, considering Frank is _right there_.

"Frank, this is Pete and Patrick, guys, this is Frank. I'm gonna go make the coffee, but you can, uh, make yourself at home," Gerard says, glaring at Pete quickly before he leaves the room, praying he doesn't say anything stupid while he's gone.

Gerard makes the coffee quickly; for once taking advantage of the ability and moving  _fast_ for the first time in weeks. He's back in the living room a couple of minutes later - no matter how fast Gerard can move when he wants to, the coffee machine is still slow as hell.

When he walks back in - moving slow again now - Frank's sitting awkwardly on the edge of one of the sofas, while Pete and Patrick sit on the other, Pete staring at Frank with a half-smirk on his face.

"Here," Gerard says, handing him a coffee and sitting next to him.

"We saw your band the other day," Pete says, out of nowhere, looking smugly at Gerard.

"Really? Which one?" Frank asks.

"Death Spells," Gerard tells him, and god, Gerard's sure seeing Frank this happy is slowly killing him inside, in the best way.

"What did you think?" he asks, looking simultaneously excited and ecstatic.

"You were really awesome," Gerard says, feeling his heart flutter as Frank's smile gets impossibly wider.

"Yeah, the show definitely affected Gerard," Pete adds, and Gerard has to refrain from leaning over the table and punching him, instead settling for glaring at him.

"I've got a show in a couple of days, if you wanna come," Frank says, looking at Gerard, "it's not the same band, but...it'd be cool if you could come."

"Yeah, that'd be...really awesome," Gerard says, hiding his smile behind his coffee and trying to ignore the faces Pete's now making at him across the coffee table.

Franks grins back, his face dropping when he glances at the clock hanging on the wall. "Oh, shit," he says, swallowing down his coffee quickly and putting the empty mug down on the table, "I really need to go and shower, I'm supposed to be doing something tonight," he explains, grabbing one of the pens off the table and scribbling down a time and place on the notepad there, "I'll see you at the show, thanks again for the spider," he says, disappearing out the front door again.

Pete turns to Gerard the second Frank's gone, "So you found him," he says with a grin.

"He showed up at the front door."

"For a spider?" Patrick asks.

"There was a spider in his shower, and he really doesn't like spiders."

"And you're going to his show in a couple of days," Pete says, still grinning.

"Shut up," Gerard says, feeling his face flush.

"You know, for the few seconds he was here, I couldn't tell whether you were staring at his face or his neck."

"I'm not staying here for talking about blood," Patrick sighs, getting up and going into the kitchen.

"I was  _not_ staring at his neck."

"You shouldn't be ashamed, it's in our nature," Pete says matter-of-factly. "Have you ever-" he starts, making some vague gestures, "-y'know Frank."

"No way, I can't risk that. Not with Frank."

"You should try it, especially during sex, it makes it, like, ten times better."

"Stop  _talking_ about it!" they hear Patrick yell from the kitchen.

"Stop listening!" Pete yells back. _  
_

"I know, I've tried it," Gerard says.

"Oh  _really?_  " Pete asks, raising his eyebrows, "You've actually slept with someone  _other_ than Frank?"

"I didn't not have sex for seventy years. Well, like, a century."

"Okay, so if you can drink from these random chicks and dudes you're hooking up with, why not Frank?"

"Because I don't want to  _kill_ him."

"You don't have to completely drink him  _dry_ , I mean, did you kill all those other people that you slept with before?"

" _Yes_. It...it was just before we met, when I was, like...y'know."

"Batshit crazy, got it."

Patrick chose then to interrupt, stepping into the room with his hands covering his eyes. "Are you guys done discussing your weird vampire sex yet?"

"Pat, you realise covering your eyes isn't gonna do shit to stop you hearing about our 'weird vampire sex', right?" Pete asks.

"Oh, yeah," Patrick says, dropping his hands and smiling at the two of them sheepishly, "whoops."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit short but it's a kind of filler chapter and I've been busy with writing a job application so sorry about that

"Gerard Way or teenage girl going out on her first date, the world may never know," Pete says, standing in the doorway to Gerard's bedroom and watching as he pulls the majority of his clothes out onto the floor around him.

"Shut up, it's not even a date," Gerard says, sitting back on his heels in defeat and sighing, "I have _no_ clothes."

"You say that while sitting in a pile of clothes."

"You're really not helping," Gerard says with a glare in Pete's direction.

"You haven't even asked me for help yet, otherwise I'd have totally already found you an awesome outfit for your _date_ -"

"It's not a date," Gerard interjects.

"Yeah, but you wish it was."

"He might not even be _interested_ in me."

"When has he not been? Besides, no one gets that fucking ecstatic when you say that you like their music, unless they like you. Enough to ask you on a _date_."

"You're just trying to make me feel better because this date has already gone to pot and it hasn't even started yet."

"So it _is_ a date," Pete says, smirking.

"No it isn't, just shut up and _please_ help me."

"Okay, okay, fine. I'll impart my fashion-wisdom onto you."

"Please don't impart anything onto me."

Pete rolls his eyes, moving past Gerard's defeated position on the floor to look through the remaining clothes in his chest of drawers.

"Do you know what bands he likes? At least 70% of your wardrobe is band shirts."

"Uh, I don't know, we just kinda talked about spiders and vampires."

"So he didn't freak out?"

"No, he's was, like, super interested," Gerard says, moving back to sit on the bed, watching Pete pick out several shirts, "he just asked questions."

"Aw, how sweet," Pete says, "I bet you can teach him  _everything_ about vampires."

"Shut up," Gerard says, throwing a pillow at the back of Pete's head, feeling his face flush red.

"Here," Pete says, turning round and throwing several items of clothing at Gerard, just missing his face, "try this on," he tells him, walking out of the room again.

Gerard sighs, getting up off the bed and looking at what Pete had thrown him; a pair of black skinny jeans, an old rolling stones t-shirt, and a denim jacket. He pulls them on quickly, then steps out back into the hall, to find Pete waiting outside, leaning against the wall.

"You're such a creep, I bet you watched me changing," he says.

"Yeah, of course. Don't you have X-Ray vision? I use it to spy on all the people I live with. That's why I wanted to be roommates in the first place, so I could see more of this," Pete says, gesturing at Gerard.

"I knew it, I never should've moved in with you," Gerard says, walking to the kitchen, hearing Pete following him.

"Then poor Patrick would just be stuck with me."

"He practically lives here, anyway," Gerard says, pouring out another cup of coffee, even though he'd had more than enough today. He drank coffee when he was nervous.

"Okay, fair enough. I'm pretty the only reason he  _doesn't_ live here is cause the blood in the fridge kinda grosses him out."

"Or the fact that we only have two bedrooms."

Pete shrugs, taking the coffee Gerard held out for him, "He wouldn't mind sharing with me."

"Yeah, I bet."

"I think this is good."

"What?" Gerard asks, confused by the sudden change of topic. Not that he shouldn't be used to it by now, living with Pete.

"Your outfit."

"Oh," Gerard says, looking down, "right. That's probably because you chose it."

"Yeah, what can I say? I have an awesome sense of fashion."

"Yeah, sure."

"Hey, I helped you with your date, you shouldn't insult me or I  _won't_ help next time."

"If there even  _is_ a next time," Gerard says, sighing, "are you sure you can't come with me?" _  
_

Pete shakes his head, "I have very important, uh, things to be...doing."

"That's complete bullshit and we both know it."

"You're going on a  _date_ , I can't come with you!"

"It's  _not_  a date. He never explicitly said it was a date! He just invited me to come see his band, and you were in the room, so, technically, you were invited too."

"I think the way he was looking at you when he asked you is proof enough that it's a date."

"He's gonna be on a stage for most of it, how could that even be a good date? I'm just gonna be standing there watching him alone,  _please_ come."

"You need to be able to interact with people on your own." _  
_

"This is the second time I'm gonna be going out in months. And  _Frank_ is gonna be there. There's no way I can function normally without you helping." _  
_

Pete sighs, "Aren't I supposed to be the immature one? I-"

"You are the immature one," Gerard interrupts.

"-feel like your dad. You know, you shouldn't be insulting the person you're currently  _begging_ to come with you on your date."

Now it's Gerard turn to sigh, "I feel like correcting you on the fact that it's  _not_ a date at this point is useless."

"You're right," Pete says, "I'll drive you to the place, and then  _maybe_ come in with you, if you're lucky. And depending on how motivated I feel to get out of the car."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Gerard says, beaming at Pete.

Pete rolls his eyes, "I'm gonna get changed, you  _owe_ me."

"Don't wear anything better than me."

"That's hard," Pete says, as he starts to walk back to his room, "considering, like, everything in my wardrobe is better than anything in yours."

"Fuck you."

"Remember who's doing you a  _huge_ favour," Pete says as he disappears round the corner.

"You're right," Gerard says, going round to sit and wait on the sofa with his coffee, "I love you, Pete," he calls out sarcastically.


	6. Chapter 6

“I’m gonna do or say something stupid, I know it,” Gerard says, once he and Pete are in the car, playing with the note Frank had left, with the venue and time, nervously between his fingers.

“Yeah, well, that’s bound to happen. What’s important is that Frank won’t mind when you say said stupid thing. Or things.”

“How romantic,” Gerard says, sarcastically, despite the fact that he’s hoping that Pete’s right, and that Frank wouldn’t care how much of an idiot Gerard would most likely end up being.

“Hey, you’re the one that’s waited seventy years for the guy.”

“Yeah, please _don’t_ tell him that. Contrary to popular belief, explaining the whole you-keep-getting-reincarnated-and-I-keep-falling-in-love-with-you thing really _isn’t_ a good conversation starter.”

“Well, crap, that’s what I’ve been doing wrong.”

“Oh, shut up, you have more successful relationships than me.”

“You’ve had, like, a weird, kind of ongoing relationship for 300 years, so not really.”

“Yeah, except he keeps _dying_. That’s like, just one tiny issue with our relationship.”

“Why don’t you, y’know, turn him? You must’ve thought about it. You’ve had a long time.”

“You always seem to manage to bring everything back to how old I am or the fact that we’re vampires.”

“I’m still young, the novelty hasn’t worn off yet, okay. And you’re avoiding the question.”

Gerard sighs, “Yeah, I’ve thought about it. Over and over and over.”

“And the verdict? Do you really need me to prompt all of our conversations about your weird relationship?”

“I can’t do it, its way too risky, you know that.”

“What could go wrong? He realises that he can go after other vampires now and you’re not even the hottest one out there, and leaves you?”

Gerard rolls his eyes, “He could _die_.”

“He’s died before, hasn’t he? And that’s, like, a tiny possibility.”

“I don’t know, he might not react well to it, he could just lose it like I did after he died, _anything_ could happen.”

“Yeah, but he’ll have you, when he died and you lost it, you had a severe _lack_ of a significant other to support you and help you. Even if he did, like, go off a bit, he’d still come back or _stop_ eventually, no one’s gonna be crazy forever, and you were going through a lot. Frank had just died, you were still pretty recently a vampire, and it was in the freaking 1700s, where everyone were terrified of and hated the possibility of vampires or witches or the vague idea of anything supernatural, which is enough to give you a bit of self-loathing. Frank would be prepared, he’d be consenting, and he’d _know_ what he was going into, you were just kind of thrown into it. Have you even talked to him about it?”

“No,” Gerard says, frowning in thought, “I’ve never even told him about the whole reincarnation thing.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s not really a thing that just _comes up_.”

“Okay, well,” Pete says, pulling up outside the venue, parking his car, “promise me this time you’ll talk to Frank. Tell him everything.”

“ _Now?_ ”

“No, not _right_ now, like, once you guys are all-” Pete says, pausing to make some vague hand gestures, “-close and shit.”

“How much is everything?”

“The whole reincarnation thing, both times you lost it, you searching for him, the whole not being able to find him for 70 years, and, of course, everything about me because I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“Oh yeah, of course, without question,” Gerard replies sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“You know it’s true.”

“You know I can’t tell Frank that though, he might get jealous of how much I love you.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t blame him, you do love me an unhealthy amount.”

“I can’t help it, you’re just so perfect, Pete.”

“I know, I don’t need you to tell me that. Now, you have a guy to seduce, so move your ass.”

“Are you coming in?”

Pete shakes his head, “It’ll be way more date like if you go by yourself, if I come it’ll, like, send the wrong message.”

“Pete Wentz, relationship guru.”

“Well, you’re not in a relationship yet, so more like Pete Wentz, almost-relationship guru.”

“Or Pete Wentz, being a sucky friend and abandoning his best friend guru,” Gerard says as he climbs out of the car.

“That doesn’t even make _sense_. You suck at this," Pete says. "I’ll be at, like, Starbucks or something, text me if and when you want to go home.”

“I hate you,” Gerard says through the open window, shutting his door.

“But not as much as you love me,” Pete replies, driving away before Gerard can say any more.

Gerard sighs, turning back round to face the bar, and going inside. It's pretty small, but there's still quite a few people milling around; talking and drinking, and Gerard panics for a moment when he realises he can't see Frank anywhere. It's dark inside, so he can't see much of anything, but he doesn't even have any plans of  _where_ he's actually going to meet Frank. For a moment he considers going over and sitting at the bar, in the hopes that he'll spot Frank, or at least manage to find him after the show, but then he feels a hand wrapping around his wrist and dragging him to the side of the room.

"You came!" Frank says, and Gerard can only make out the white of his teeth - pulled up into a wide smile - in the dark, now that they're away from the main lights.

"Yeah, I was, uh, yeah," Gerard says, not really sure what he's trying to say, because Frank's hand is  _still_ wrapped around his wrist, which really isn't helping Gerard's thought processes. "What time do you go on?"

"Oh, yeah," Frank says, pulling at Gerard's wrist again, leading him through the crowds of people and to the side of the stage, where some other people are sitting around with various instruments. He drops Gerard's wrist and goes over to one of the guys there, talking to him for a couple of minutes before coming back to Gerard. "We've gotta go on, like, now, really, so you can just like...hang around here, and I can introduce you to everyone after the show. I hope you like it," he says, and then he's disappearing again, picking up a bass propped against the wall and walking on stage with some a couple of the guys, including the one Gerard had seen the other night.

"Hey," Gerard hears someone say, and turns to see a guy with huge hair - even bigger than Joe's, at least, at the moment - coming to stand next to him, "you must be Gerard."

"Oh, uh, yeah, hey."

"I'm Ray, Frank's, like, kind of living with me at the moment."

"Oh yeah, I rescued a spider from your shower the other day."

Ray laughs, "Yeah, I heard about that. Frank wouldn't shut up about you after," he says, "he'd probably kill me if he knew I told you that, though."

Gerard laughs now, feeling simultaneously happy and nervous, his eyes glued to Frank on stage as the music starts up. He's even more into the music when he has an instrument with him; moving round the stage and head banging, then jumping back to the mic to sing backing vocals.

"You live in the apartment below right?" Ray asks after several songs of Gerard just watching Frank move around the stage, perfectly in tune with the music, "Have you just moved in?"

"No, I've been there for, like, at least a couple of years. I think."

"Seriously? I've never even seen you around before, and I've seen your other roommates at least a few times."

"Oh, yeah, I don't leave my apartment much. At all."

"Well, you're out now, at least."

"Yeah, that took a lot of convincing on my roommates part and a broken promise that he'd come with me."

Ray nods, letting them both drift into silence again and listen to the music for a couple more songs, and then the band's coming off stage, sweaty and beaming.

"Hey, you met Ray," Frank says to Gerard when he comes over, "he's the guy that saved me from the spider," he tells Ray.

"Yeah, we figured that out," Ray says.

"I'd hardly call it  _saving_. It wasn't doing anything," Gerard says, laughing at the face Frank pulls.

"I bet it was planning too, though."

"Yeah, sure," Gerard says, noticing Ray moving off to go talk to some other people. "You were awesome up there."

"Thanks," Frank says, beaming again, "I haven't even been playing in this band for that long, this is, like, one of my first shows. It's all James'," he says, gesturing towards the guy from the other night, and the one that'd been singing for this band, "thing, I just joined cause he needed a bass player."

"So are bands just, like, a side thing, or is this your full-time job, I guess?"

"Yeah, this is basically all I do, I've been in a shit ton of bands and still am."

"Are you here permanently or are you just staying with Ray while you do, like...band stuff," Gerard asks, cringing at how his complete and utter lack of experience makes him terrible at small talk.

"Well, I'm just kinda staying with Ray for the moment while I try and find a place, so I guess I'll be here permanently, for now, at least," Frank says, and Gerard feels tempted to lie and tell him that Pete's moving out, so he'll have a spare room, but decides against it when he realises Pete is probably the main reason he's survived the past few years, and becoming Frank's roommate could be just be a way to ruin any possible relationship and guarantee they'd just stay friends this time.

Gerard just nods instead, thinking about what Pete had said before about being completely truthful to Frank, and at what point would be considered appropriate to tell Frank all the various things, when he's  _sure_  he hears Pete's voice behind him, and then he's appearing next to him, grinning at him and Frank.

"So, I may have left my key to the apartment inside the apartment, so now I can't get in without you."

Gerard sighs, "Seriously?"

"You've made stupider mistakes and you know it."

"Okay, fair enough," he says, turning back to Frank again, "Sorry, I have to go cause- yeah, but your show was really awesome."

"Thanks," Frank says, smiling even more, "I'll see you around then, hopefully."

With a couple more goodbyes, and a quick wave to Ray, Gerard and Pete are walking back out the door again, towards the car.

"He is  _so_ interested in you." _  
_

"Shut up," Gerard says, but feels himself smiling anyway.


	7. Chapter 7

Several days after seeing Frank, Gerard found himself sleeping again. Or more, he made the conscious decision to stay in bed for the entire day, since he didn’t have any plans with Frank – or any way of contacting him – and now that he’d left the apartment twice within a week, Pete was satisfied enough to leave him alone and not nag at him to socialise.

At some point in the day, or maybe it’s the next day, Gerard can’t remember anymore, he leaves his room, because he’s reached the point where he can’t sleep any more, and he’s ran out of comics within direct reach from his position in the bed. Instead he transfers to the living room – blankets and all – to start another Star Wars marathon.

 

Over halfway through the first movie, Gerard hears a knock at the door and sighs, turning his attention away from the TV, “Pete, I swear to god if you’ve forgotten your key again.”

He hears a faint laugh through the door, “No, it’s me,” a voice says, that he instantly recognises as Frank, making his heart skip several beats.

“Oh, uh, the doors open,” he replies, shuffling backwards so he’s sitting more upright – slouched halfway down the sofa with several dozen chins isn’t the most attractive look.

“Hey,” Frank says, peering round the door and laughing again at Gerard, now sitting cross legged on the sofa, wrapped in several blankets.

“Hey, uh, what’s up?” Gerard asks, trying not to blush under Frank’s stare, and probably failing.

“Would you believe me if I said there was another spider in my shower?”

“Seriously?”

“No,” Frank says, grinning, “I just fixed the coffee machine and I wanted someone to have celebratory coffee with.”

“Sounds awesome,” Gerard says, pausing the movie, “as long as it’s considered appropriate to go up to your apartment still covered in blankets.”

“I think it’s perfectly appropriate,” Frank says, watching as Gerard gets up, keeping the blankets wrapped tight around him, and follows Frank out the door and back upstairs.

“So, are you, like, sick or something?” Frank asks when they reach his front door, going inside, “Can vampires even get sick?”

Gerard shakes his head, "I just get really cold sometimes, when I haven't, uh...fed in a while," he says, hoping mentioning the whole blood-drinking thing won't freak Frank out.

But Frank doesn't say anything, just reaches down and grabs one of Gerard's hands, making his heart skip again, "Fucking hell, you're freezing."

"I'm always cold, like a dead body or something, it just kinda comes with being a vampire."

"But you're, like, ice cold. You weren't this cold the other night," Frank says, sounding worried and picking up Gerard's other hand, rubbing them both between his hands.

Gerard shrugs, "I spent most of the day sleeping and Pete still needs to go to the store."

"Well, uh, the best I can offer you is coffee, will that help?" Frank asks, leading Gerard to sit on the sofa before going to start fiddling with the coffee machine.

"That's fine."

"What's with the boxes?" Gerard asks when Frank comes back, handing him his coffee, Gerard gesturing at the suitcase and small boxes piled up next to the sofa.

"Oh, uh, Ray's brother is coming into town so he needs the spare room for him, so I've gotta move out."

"Have you found a place yet?"

"No, I'm still looking, I'll just stay in a motel or something, if I can afford it. At least it'll motivate me to look harder."

"How long do you think it'll take?"

"Uh, I dunno, maybe a couple of weeks?"

"Dude, that's way too long to stay in a motel."

Frank shrugs, "It's the best I can do, but if you know anyone that's got any temporary space going, that'd be awesome."

"Uh, well, I don't really know many people, but one of our sofas pulls out into a bed downstairs, it's big enough and comfy enough, and  _free_ , if you want? As long as you don't mind staying with two vampires?"

"Seriously? That'd be awesome, thanks so much, seriously."

"Its fine, you can move in whenever, really."

"Is tonight okay? Sorry it's so last minute, I was just packing most of my shit up now so I could leave tonight, and I realised I had, like, no way of contacting you except for the fact that I was temporarily living above you. It was a lie earlier; Ray fixed his coffee machine a couple of days ago, I just needed some way to get you up here so I could get your number or something," Frank admits, and Gerard's mind starts going into overload, trying to figure out what he meant, and whether it was a 'let me get your number so I can call and ask you on a date' situation or a 'let me get your number so we can be friends and hang out' situation.

"Oh, uh, no, that's fine," Gerard says, laughing nervously, "you can join me for my Star Wars marathon."

"Sounds awesome," Frank says with a grin. "Is the coffee helping?"

"What?"

"To, like, warm you up."

"Oh, yeah, thanks."

"Are you sure?" Frank asks, looking worried again, resting the back of his hand against Gerard's cheek to feel his temperature, and Gerard has to try not to lean into the touch, "I feel like a concerned mother."

"I'm almost positive that I'm older than you."

"How old are you?" Frank says, looking suddenly excited, taking his hand away and turning to face Gerard, "Are you, like, crazy vampire old?"

"Uh," Gerard says, feeling heat flush to his face with Frank's intent look, "almost three-hundred."

"Woah, you  _are_ crazy vampire old."

"Thanks," Gerard says, sarcastically.

"Sorry, I've just always been super interested in like vampires and horror movies and anything supernatural. You can imagine how excited teenage-me was when there was that whole vampire news explosion when everyone realised you guys actually  _existed_."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-two. How old were you when you were, like, turned?"

"Twenty-six," Gerard tells him.

"How did it happen?" Frank asks, still looking excited.

"Uh, wrong place, wrong time, really," Gerard says. "Everyone in America was poor back then, it was mostly just a mess of trying to establish any kind of vague civilisation. Everyone was terrified of vampires, too, even though they had no proof that we actually existed. So, when someone was caught in a very...well, back then when everyone was superstitious they all would've thought he was a vampire from that alone. They were right, of course, and he managed to escape the crappy prison they'd built for him to wait in for the morning where he'd be burned at the stake."

"That was an actual thing? Wasn't that just for witches?"

"Well, yeah, they'd behead us first, and then burn us for good measure, sometimes skipping straight to the burning if they had killed someone, just for the sheer pleasure of watching them burn alive."

"That's awful," Frank says, his eyes wide. "What happened when he escaped?"

"Well, he lost it, cause everyone had been so willing to lock him up to be burned, he started trying to turn everyone he could find, saying some crap about making them their own worst nightmare, until they managed to stop him, staking him right then and there. He killed practically everyone he'd tried to turn, I think I was the only one that survived. They didn't realise he'd been trying to turn us, they thought he'd just been drinking from us, but they still thought I was some kind of witch or something, cause I was the only one that'd survived it. They almost burned me at the stake, too, my brother and Fr- this other guy, were the only reason they didn't, they  _somehow_  managed to convince them to keep me alive."

"Oh, Gee," Frank says, making Gerard shiver at the new nickname, and reaching out a hand, as if to do something, but then changing his mind and dropping it back, "sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"It's fine, seriously."

"So I guess I should cancel the mob coming to your apartment tonight?"

"Yeah, that's definitely not good roommate etiquette."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty short because I was really busy today. I can't resist making a little less sixteen candles references and I'm probably gonna keep on making more and more.

"Uh, Gerard?" Pete asks, poking his head round Gerard's door, not long after he'd gotten home from wherever he'd been that night.

"Yeah?" Gerard says, looking up from the sketchbook he has laid out in front of him.

"Why's Frank asleep in the living room?"

"Oh," Gerard says, a look of realisation crossing his face, "he needed a place to stay while he's looking for an apartment, so I said he could stay here. Is that okay?"

"Well, I would've thought you'd prefer for him to sleep in  _here_ , but, whatever you want."

"Fuck off," Gerard says, throwing his pencil at Pete's head - this time actually hitting him square in the forehead.

Pete laughs at Gerard, rubbing at his forehead, "But yeah, it's fine. Next time warn me though, cause the other guys are here and he's not really asleep anymore."

Gerard sighs, trying to get up off his bed without disturbing any of the pencils scattered across it, "Please tell me they're not gonna start telling him everything about the fact that he keeps getting reincarnated, or whatever this is."

"Only Patrick knows, and he won't say anything."

"Good," Gerard says, following Pete back to the living room, where Frank's now sitting cross legged in the middle of the sofa-bed, with Patrick, Joe and Andy sitting across from him.

"Hey," Frank says when Gerard sits down next to him, turning and smiling at him with sleepy eyes and messy hair that makes Gerard's heart ache because he looks so unfairly adorable.

"Hey, has, uh, have you been introduced to everyone?" Gerard asks, Frank nodding in response.

"Is it totally inappropriate to drink blood in front of you guys right now?" Pete asks, leaning against the side of the sofa Patrick's sitting on.

"That's never stopped you before," Patrick says.

"Now we have a guest, though," Pete says, gesturing towards Frank.

"It's cool," Frank says, with another nod.

"Gerard?" Pete asks on his way out.

"Nah, I'm fine."

"Have you had anything since earlier?" Frank asks, looking at Gerard with concern, again, "When you were, like, freezing cold."

Gerard shakes his head, "It's fine, though."

"No way, you were way too cold."

Gerard sighs; at least Frank wasn't freaked out by the whole blood-drinking thing, "I'll go into the kitchen," he says, following Pete.

"I don't think he minds," Pete says when they're both in the kitchen, going over to the fridge.

"Yeah, but, I dunno, it's still weird. If I was human I wouldn't want vampires drinking blood in front of me, I'd just feel weird."

"You're just too used to trying to hide the fact that you're a vampire," Pete says, turning back and handing Gerard a glass, which Gerard drains in a couple of seconds, making Pete raise his eyebrows, but he doesn't say anything.

"I guess," Gerard says with a shrug, rinsing his glass in the sink and leaving it on the side.

"So, has anything happened with Frank yet?" Pete asks when Gerard turns back, with a slight smirk.

Gerard shakes his head, but still feels himself blushing despite it.

"So what was 'earlier' then?"

"Uh, Frank came round and asked if I wanted to come up and have coffee with him."

"And that ended up with him moving in here?"

"Well, he needed a place, so I offered."

"Right," Pete says, still smirking, "you must see by now that he's interested, otherwise I'm giving you more credit for your intelligence than you deserve."

"I doubt he is," Gerard says, looking down at his feet.

"He is  _so_ interested, and he's not even bothering to hide it."

"Wouldn't he have, like, said something by now, if he's interested?"

"Well, you're definitely interested and you haven't said anything. Why don't  _you_ make the first move?"

"I can't, what if he  _isn't_ interested?"

"Well, he could give the same excuse for not making a move himself."

"Ugh," Gerard says with a sigh, "I hate you," he adds, walking back out and going back into the living room.

"So you guys are, like, what, vampire hunters? But you're friends with two vampires?" he hears Frank asking, before sitting back down next to him.

"Uh, I guess you could call us that?" Joe says, glancing at the others.

"Vampires used to be a lot worse than they are now," Patrick explains, "now that everyone knows about them it's, surprisingly, better. But there's still some that are intent on causing trouble and killing people, so those're the kind of vampires we try and kill."

"And then Pete was an idiot and managed to get himself turned while we were doing just that," Andy adds.

"That was not my fault, you guys were supposed to be watching my back," Pete says from behind them, coming back into the room.

Joe rolls his eyes, as if they'd had this conversation hundreds of times, which, in fairness, they had. "And then Patrick practically monitored Pete's every move for at least a couple of months after that. If they weren't friends it would probably have been bordering on stalking."

"Hey, it was important research!" Patrick says, trying to defend himself.

"So how did you guys meet Gerard?" Frank asks, changing the topic suddenly, hoping to avoid any arguments, and glancing sideways at Gerard quickly, with a smile.

"He almost ended up killing Pete," Patrick says.

"No way, I so had the upper hand in that fight."

"Keep on dreaming," Gerard says, laughing at the face Pete pulls.

"Wait, did you turn Pete?" Frank asks, looking at Gerard with wide eyes.

"He would be so dead by now if he had, instead of living with me," Pete says, just as Gerard shakes his head in response to Frank.

"I wouldn't have anything to worry about, I could so take you," Gerard says, smirking at Pete.

"Not in a billion years, you practically live in your bedroom and do  _nothing_  all day,I could take you  _easily_ ," Pete says, almost laughing at Gerard.

"Frank, I really hope you realise what you've gotten into, moving in with these two," Patrick says, giving Frank a sympathetic look.

"Well, it'll be interesting, to say the least."


	9. Chapter 9

Now that Frank was staying with them, things had changed a lot in Pete and Gerard’s apartment. Frank didn’t notice the difference, since he hadn’t known what it was like beforehand, and Gerard refused to acknowledge the difference when Pete mentioned it, but Pete definitely noticed the difference. Not only was Gerard more active; actually leaving his bedroom, getting dressed each day, even _going out_ from time to time, normally when Frank took him to one of his shows, but he was happier, too. Normally, Gerard would spend all his time in bed, sleeping, reading old comics or drawing, or on the sofa, watching reruns of old TV shows and movies. Losing Frank, not just him dying, but the prospect of never getting the chance to see him again, had really taken its toll on Gerard. He’d gotten out most of the grief when he went ‘crazy vampire’, as Pete liked to call it, and afterwards he was just left in a numb state, not knowing what to do with his life now that Frank was gone.

But now it's different, Gerard's happy and is actually, somehow, starting to become an active member in society, and Pete can only hope that whatever is happening or going to happen between him and Frank works out, and that they can keep this up.

 

“Guess what?” Frank says excitedly as he walks through the front door, almost two weeks after he’d first moved in.

“What?” Gerard asks, looking up from his sketchbook, where he’d been not-so-subtly drawing Frank whenever he got the chance and Frank was distracted, and so far he hadn’t noticed, as far as Gerard knew.

“I found an apartment.”

“Dude, that’s awesome, where is it?”

“Just a couple of blocks from here, we’ve just gotta sort out the contract and stuff, and then I can move in. James, the guy I introduced you to at the show the other day, said I could stay with him while I sort that out, cause he lives really close, so I’ll be out of your way after tomorrow.”

"You don't have to, it's fine," Gerard protests.

"No, I've been here ages already, you guys have already been awesome letting me stay here this long."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm just looking forward to finally sleeping on a proper bed when I move in. I mean, I've gone from on tour, sleeping in a van, to sleeping on Ray's crappy spare bed, to your sofa."

"You're sure that the sofa's okay?"

"Yeah, don't worry, it's fine, it's just one more night."

 

"Are you sure?" Gerard asks again, a couple of hours later when they're watching a movie, and he keeps seeing Frank wince and rub at his neck out of the corner of his eye.

"My necks just a bit sore, its fine," Frank says, shrugging it off with another wince.

"It doesn't look fine."

"If you're gonna offer me a massage though, please go ahead."

Gerard laughs, "I wouldn't be able to do a massage to save my life, I was gonna offer you my bed."

"How forward of you," Frank jokes, and Gerard tries not to sound too stupidly nervous when he laughs, "are you sure, though? I don't want to end up getting in the way or kicking you in the night or something."

"No, it's, uh, it's fine," Gerard says, not bothering to correct Frank on the fact that he'd originally meant for Frank to sleep in Gerard's bed and Gerard to sleep on the sofa, but this works too, now that he knows Frank's fine with it.

 

Frank ends up going to bed before Gerard, just after the movie finishes, after checking several dozen more times that he's sure it's okay. When Gerard finally goes back to his room, he finds Frank already fast asleep in his bed. He changes quickly in the bathroom, just in case Frank wakes up, and then goes back, sliding in next to Frank, feeling him shift next to him, his arm brushing against Gerard, and Gerard finds himself praying that he can still manage to get to sleep when all he can think of is the heat radiating from Frank's body next to him.

 

Gerard does finally get to sleep, and wakes up at some point in the morning, feeling warm and safe, more comfortable than he can remember being before. It takes him a minute, wanting to hold onto sleep for as long as he can, but he eventually opens his eyes with a sigh, remembering where he is and that  _Frank_ is in bed with him. They're tangled together, and Gerard can feel the heat of both of Frank's leg on either side of one of his, and when he realises that his leg is  _between_ Frank's - thankfully not too high up - he feels his face flush red. Frank's head is resting against Gerard's shoulder, and he can feel the gentle sighs of Frank's breath against his neck, feeling all too aware of Frank's hand resting loosely on Gerard's hip.

Gerard holds his breath, moving off the bed slowly so he doesn't wake up Frank, and, as much as he'd like to stay there with Frank for pretty much forever, he didn't want Frank to wake up and find them like that and then get weirded out, so he walked quietly to the bathroom, shutting the door carefully behind him.

In the bathroom, Gerard starts running the water, splashing it onto his face in an attempt to wake himself up a bit, when Pete pokes his head round the doorway.

Gerard sighs, "How do you always know where I am?"

"I check all the other rooms first," Pete says, simply, "I saw you and Frank earlier."

"What do you mean?"

"In bed. Together. Doing some good old post-sex cuddling."

"We didn't have sex."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, yeah, I don't think I could've had sex without realising it."

"Depends how good Frank is at sex," Pete says with a grin, earning a hit on the arm from Gerard, since there aren't any nearby objects to throw at his face. "What? I don't hear you defending him."

"That's because we  _haven't_ had sex yet."

"You said yet," Pete says with an even bigger grin, "and you must've before, like, in one of his past lives."

"That's not  _this_ Frank, though."

"So he's  _different_ each time, huh?"

"Shut up, you're so annoying," Gerard says, drying off his face and walking past Pete back out the door.

"I know. But you would've moved out by now if I was  _that_ annoying."

"You  _are_ that annoying. I should move out. Do you think Patrick has a spare room?"

"I bet Frank'll have enough space for you."

"Shut up," Gerard says, feeling himself blush again, ignoring Pete and going back into his room, feeling surprised when he sees Frank awake and sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Hey," Frank says, looking up when Gerard walks in, "can we talk- or, can I ask you something?"

"Uh, yeah, what is it?" Gerard asks, moving into the room more, but not sitting next to Frank; he can't help but worry that this is about last night and that Frank realised that they spent the majority of it tangled up in each other, and so Gerard want's to make sure not to get too much into Frank's personal space, just in case.

"So, I, uh, I feel like an idiot because I've left this a really long time, and I should've just done it straight away that first day we met because I was already  _thinking_ about it and I had already  _wanted_ to, but I was an idiot and just kept putting it off and now it's been weeks and I've been living with you for almost two of them and it's probably too late so I don't want this to mess anything up if you're not interested and-" Frank says, blurting it all out quickly.

"Frank, what is it?" Gerard asks, interrupting Frank before he can say anything else, still feeling nervous.

"If you're not interested then we can just, like, ignore that I ever asked, but I was wondering if you'd like to, uh, I dunno, like, go out? On a date. With me."

"What?" Gerard asks, not exactly trusting his ears because this is _Frank_ , and as many times as Pete had told him otherwise, Gerard had been sure that Frank hadn't reciprocated any of Gerard's feelings, "You want to- what?"

"Oh, crap," Frank says, his face flushing red, "sorry, sorry, I knew I shouldn't have asked, but I thought I might as well give it a shot otherwise I'll hate myself but- crap, sorry."

"No no no," Gerard says, going forward to Frank and pulling away the hands he'd brought up to cover his face, sitting down next to him, "That'd be...really awesome. Pete's been trying to convince me for weeks to get up the courage to ask you out."

"Seriously?" Frank asks, finally looking up at Gerard, disbelief written in his eyes.

"You have no idea," Gerard says, beaming at Frank. "So, what do you, like, wanna do?"

"I have the perfect idea," Frank says with a smile.

"Yeah?"

"It's a surprise," Frank tells him, his smile growing impossibly wider. "Is tomorrow night too soon? I wish hadn't waited so long because I was such a wimp."

"Tomorrow night's awesome."

"So it's a date."

"I guess it is."


	10. Chapter 10

"Okay, something's up," Pete says the moment he sees Gerard, lying on the floor of the living room with his sketchbook.

"What?" Gerard asks, barely even registering what Pete had said; too involved in both the drawing and thinking over the fact that he has a date with _Frank_.

"Frank's just moved out, I was expecting you to be super depressed or something, instead you're smiling to yourself like an idiot."

"I am?" Gerard asks, trying to stop the smile he can feel on his lips, but giving up quickly.

"Yeah, you really are," Pete confirms, collapsing onto the sofa in front of Gerard. "What happened?"

"Frank asked me out," Gerard explains, his smile growing wider.

Pete raises his eyebrows, "Seriously? I thought you guys were gonna be flirting back and forth and thinking the other wasn't interested forever. But that's awesome, man, seriously."

"Wait, how did you know he didn't think I was interested? I thought you said I kept making it stupidly obvious."

"I said he was making it stupidly obvious that he liked you, but you were oblivious to that, of course. And I may have spoken to him about it."

"You what?" Gerard asks, finally putting his pencil down to turn and give an accusing glare to Pete, "Is that why he asked me out? Cause you went and told him I've been completely in love with him since the 18th century?"

"No way, he would've completely freaked out if I'd told him that. I didn't even tell him that you liked him. I asked him what was going on between you two because there was obviously something, and he said that he really really liked you but he felt like he'd been putting it off for two long and now that you'd two had become friends it might be too late to ask you out without messing anything up. I lied and said you hadn't talked to me about him, but I told him that he might as well go for it before the timing gets even worse."

"You were the one that convinced him to do it?"

"Uh, I guess so?"

"I told him you'd been trying to convince me to ask him out for weeks, which you kind of have, so he knows you lied to him now."

"Really? Oh well, the lie was to benefit you two so you guys should be thanking me."

"Thank you, Pete, my knight in shining armour, for finally getting me a potential boyfriend."

"I think your knight in shining armour is supposed to actually be the boyfriend."

"Is this you trying to suggest something? Because if Frank thought he'd left it too long, this is way worse."

"I've secretly been in love with you for years."

"I'm Gerard, not Patrick, remember."

"Fuck off," Pete says, throwing a cushion at Gerard's head, and, unlike last time Gerard tried, actually hitting him.

"I don't see you denying anything."

"You're even more annoying than me. So when's your date, anyway?" Pete asks, changing the topic quickly.

"Tomorrow night."

"Where's he taking you? Is it going to be romantic?"

"Shut up, he said its gonna be a surprise."

"Oh, very romantic."

Gerard shrugs, feeling himself blush slightly, because it was kind of sweet how Frank seemed determined not to tell him, and yet seemed convinced that his plan for the date was perfect.

"I'd say start getting ready at least three hours beforehand, so you have time to pick your outfit out, judging by the time you took to pick it out last time, and the fact that this is an actual date now."

"Shut up, I don't take that long."

"You kinda do, I mean, do you know what you're wearing already?"

Gerard shrugs, "I dunno, I don't even know where we're going and if it should be fancy or casual or what."

"Just go for normal date clothes, then."

"What even are normal date clothes?"

"Like, casual but smart. You're so behind the times."

"Sorry for being old and not getting the chance to grow up in the late 20th century."

"1. You're right, you are old and apology accepted. 2. If you actually went on dates every now and then, you might learn proper date etiquette. I mean, you managed to pick up on every other 21st century thing quick enough. Especially comics and TV. I don't know how you ever survived without the Star Wars movies, considering how often you seem to rewatch them."

"Neither do I, they should've been made way sooner, too much of my life has been spent not watching Star Wars."

"You've spent more time watching Star Wars in the past couple of years than you've spent actually out of the apartment."

Gerard shrugs again, turning his attention back to his drawing.

"So, with this whole Frank thing," Pete starts, after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah?" Gerard asks, not looking up from his sketchbook.

"Have you ever found him, like, too early? Like, he's way too young. And how does the morality change for vampires so that it's not even considered some kind of pedophilia when you're over 200 years older than your significant other."

"I did once find him when he was, like, just a kid. I felt like a complete creep so I just left for 15 or so years so by the time I saw him again he was well into his twenties," Gerard explains, pausing to think for a moment about Pete's other question. "My brother used to have a theory about that, and either way, it's not really like pedophilia unless it's just a kid like if a some hundred-and-something year old goes and dates a seventeen year old, because you're not taking advantage of them because they're not too young to even properly figure out themselves and haven't even had a chance to live on their own."

"What was your brother's theory?"

"He thought that it was either something that happened when you were turned, like your brain was frozen in time, if that makes sense, or that it was some kind of psychological thing of never actually physically ageing, so because you could still do all the things when you were twenty and still looked like you were twenty, you felt like and acted like it too. Because when we were both in our 90s, we realised that, okay sure, we didn't look like ninety year olds, but we still didn't feel like we acted like any at all."

"Are you ever gonna tell me what happened with your brother?"

Gerard shakes his head before Pete even finishes talking, "I don't wanna talk about it."

"You've been avoiding it for years, don't you ever want to see him again?"

"He hated me last time I saw him, that's why he left and I let him."

"Why does he hate you?"

"Because I did some really stupid things."

"But what?"

Gerard sighs, turning to face Pete again. "You know how I was when we first met?"

"Like, the exact kind of vampire we'd try to kill?"

Gerard nods, "Without the gangs."

"Okay, so why did he hate you?"

"He knew I had gotten like that before, back when Frank first died, and that was what had gotten him turned and almost killed. When I started again, he tried to help, he tried to stop me, even tying me up some nights just so that I'd go just one night without killing an i-innocent person," Gerard says, his voice shaking with the guilt of the memories. "He was afraid someone was going to get hurt again, that they'd do something to him or me or somehow find Frank. Eventually, he left. He said he couldn't stand to see me digging myself into a hole that he knew would end up with someone finally killing me. He hates me," Gerard finishes, the last sentence sounding small and broken.

"He doesn't hate you, he cares about you and he didn't want to see you hurt," Pete reassures him. "You should try and find him again."

"No, he won't want anything to do with me."

"I bet he'll be so relieved to see you again and find you alive and sane. I'm gonna find him."

"No, Pete, don't."

"I'll find him, and then you can choose whether or not to speak to him again, you just worry about what the hell you're going to wear tomorrow."

Gerard sighs, knowing Pete won't change his mind now that he's made it up.

"You need to see your brother again."


	11. Chapter 11

Frank arrives at the door barely five minutes after Gerard had managed to find some decent clothes and get dressed, much to Pete's amusement. Frank still doesn't tell Gerard where they're going when he gets in Frank's car, or when they're driving there, but by the time they arrive, Gerard recognises the place. It's an old park, near the edge of the city, backing onto a hill and a group of trees that Gerard can't see the end of, so more of a mini-forest.

"The park?" Gerard questions, looking over at Frank, trying not to sound too judgemental.

"Well, not the park so much, like, uh, just follow me," Frank says, getting out of the car, and waiting for Gerard to do the same. "But parks at night are still awesome. Haven't you ever snuck out or stayed out with friends and hung out in the park while it got dark, like, when you were a kid?"

"Well, when I was growing up, we didn't really have parks."

"Oh, crap, yeah. Sorry, I forget you're like...old, and stuff."

Gerard laughs, "Uh, thanks, I guess?"

"Well, I'm not gonna deny the fact that you look young for your age," Frank says. "Come on," he tells Gerard, taking his hand and leading him up the hill behind the park, sitting down when they both reach the top, gesturing for Gerard to do the same.

"What?" Gerard asks, sitting down and looking at Frank.

"Lie back," Frank tells him, doing so himself, and watching Gerard as he follows. "Look at the stars."

"Wow," Gerard gasps, "we're right by the city, though, how is it so...clear?"

"I don't care, really, it's amazing either way."

"Yeah," Gerard says with a sigh, just looking round at the different stars, so bright in the dark sky that he'd normally pay hardly any attention to.

"So," Frank says, after they'd both laid in silence for a while, "tell me about yourself."

"There's not much to tell, other than what you already know."

"You've had a crap load more life experience than me, there must be  _something_."

"Uh, I don't know. It's easier to answer questions."

"Okay, uh," Frank says, turning round onto his stomach and leaning on his elbows so he can look at Gerard, "do you, or, well, did you have family?"

"I've got a brother."

"He's a vampire too?"

"Yeah, he, uh, we don't really talk anymore, though."

"Why not?"

"It's a long story."

"A 'I'm too lazy to tell it' long story or a 'I'm not ready to tell it' long story?"

"'Not ready to tell it' long story, sorry."

"It's fine, there's some personal shit you just don't really wanna share straight away."

"Now you're just gonna make me curious about what your personal shit is."

"No way, I didn't ask about your mysterious vampire brother, so you'll have to wait and see. It'll give you motivation to go on another date with me."

"You won't have to worry about that," Gerard reassures him.

"Good," Frank say, turning back to look at the stars quickly, but if Gerard had seen right, there was the faint flush of blood crawling across his cheeks, but he doesn't say anything, and they both drift back into silence again, forgetting about Frank's questions.

 

"Come on," Frank says suddenly after a while, sitting up and looking down at Gerard, "follow me, I want to show you something," he adds, standing up and pulling Gerard with him. He starts to walk in the direction of the trees, stopping to reach back and grab Gerard's hand when he realises he's not keeping up with him. "Come _on_."

"Into the forest?" Gerard asks, "You could just be dragging me there to murder me."

"You're the bloodthirsty one with the sharp fangs, if either of us are worried about getting murdered, it should be me."

Gerard laughs half-heartedly, trying not to let Frank's joke get to him and his ongoing worries about losing control around him. "Are you gonna feed me go a werewolf or something then?"

Frank freezes, turning back to face Gerard, eyes wide in the dark, "Are werewolves real too?"

Gerard laughs, shrugging, "Maybe, I've never met one, but I didn't think vampires existed until I was bitten by one, either."

"There could be, like, anything out there," Frank says, absentmindedly, turning back and continuing to pull Gerard through the trees in silence.

"Wait," Gerard says after a few moments, stopping and pulling Frank back by their linked hands.

"What?" Frank asks, and Gerard can just about make out the shadow of his frown. 

Gerard starts walking again, pushing Frank backward, hands against his shoulders, making sure he doesn't trip backwards. He stops when Frank's back is pressed against the tree, his face looking simultaneously terrified and excited, Gerard unable to distinguish between the two in the dark.

"Is this okay?" Gerard asks, leaning even closer, his breath ghosting over Frank's lips.

Frank nods shakily, eyes lowered, staring at Gerard's lips, which gives him enough of a hint before he's tilting his head forward ever so slightly, resting his hand against the back of Frank's neck, bringing their lips to meet in the middle. The second they touch, Gerard can't help the smile that spreads across his lips, because this is like finally coming home after a bad day at work that lasted several decades. It's like he can feel the memories passing through him, through their lips; kissing Frank for the very first time, both scared of the possible outcomes of their secret relationship, kissing Frank every day when he would get home from work, jokingly kissing Frank in the trenches to gross out any of the homophobic men they were stuck living in close quarters with.

"Woah," Frank says, pulling away, panting and looking at Gerard with a slight frown.

"That good, huh?"

Frank nods with a grin, "But it was- it was, like...déjà vu."

"What?" Gerard asks, not bothering to hide the shock in his voice or face.

"Like, you know when you have a dream, and you're trying to remember a part of it? But you can't quite get it, and it's on the tip of your tongue and it's like you can feel the memory of the dream, but you can't quite get it. It was like that, like, I don't know, I'm probably not making much sense."

"I- no, uh, I kind of get it," Gerard says, still feeling the shock shaking through him because that had never happened before, never once had Frank recognised him or remembered something before, even if he couldn't quite see what he was remembering.

"Sorry if that kind of, like, weirded you out," Frank says, looking down, "but you know what I do when I can't remember a dream? Especially when I like it," he says, looking back up at Gerard, chewing his lip slightly, "go back to sleep," he finishes, sounding stupidly cheesy, but Gerard doesn't even have time to laugh at him because his lips are back against his own, Frank's tongue slipping slowly into his mouth and Gerard does the same, just tasting him.

Gerard feels his head start spinning, feeling lightheaded from the lack of air and not really caring; it feels like with each movement, each kiss, Frank is pulling another memory from Gerard, reminding him of times he didn't think he'd ever remember, or even knew of. This, Gerard realises, is different. This isn't what it's normally like, normally, they'd just kiss. They'd have a relationship, a relatively normal relationship. Frank wouldn't recognise Gerard, and Gerard definitely wouldn't have old, forgotten memories brought back by his kiss.

"I can feel your heartbeat," Frank whispers when he pulls away, sucking in a deep breath of air. He reaches one hand up between their chests, resting it over Gerard's heart, "it's slow, really slow," he tells him, looking down at his hand, "and quiet, but I can feel it."

"Really?" Gerard asks, still getting his breath back.

"Yeah, I didn't even realise vampires had heartbeats."

"Neither did I."

Frank looks up, holding Gerard's stare for a few moments, before leaning forward again, moving his hands round to tangle in Gerard's hair, deepening the kiss the moment their lips meet again. Now that he's paying attention, Gerard notices Frank's heartbeat against his chest, rapid and strong, almost jumping every time a small sound would escape Gerard's lips, caught instantly by Frank's, and reciprocated quickly.

Gerard pulls away suddenly, laughing when Frank tries to follow his lips, his head leaning forward. "What is it that you were going to show me?" Gerard asks.

Frank frowns for a second, looking confused, then his face clears as he remembers, "Oh, yeah, follow me. Again," he says, taking Gerard's hand and walking further into the trees, before stopping abruptly, in front of a small wooden bench, surrounded by moss and various plants.

"Why is it here?" Gerard asks, glancing sideways at Frank, his face barely visible in the dark, only the shine of his eyes and lips from the moonlight.

"I don't know. So many times I've thought about why there's a bench in the middle of a bunch of trees. Did they start a park and decide not to chop down all the trees? Is it in memorial for someone? Was it a park that got overrun by trees and this is the only thing left? I have so many theories. I would always come here whenever I wanted to get away from stuff; things that were happening, people, anything, really. I've never showed it to anyone before. I don't know why I'm showing it to you, even, I just felt like-" Frank says, trailing off, not knowing how to finish, "I don't know."

Gerard doesn't say anything, just keeps watching Frank with a look of wonder on his face; he's shown him the one place he escapes to. The place he goes to feel safe. This is Frank showing him that he trusts him, completely, even though they've only known each other a few weeks.

"Sorry, I've freaked you out, haven't I? Sorry, that explanation is kinda intense for a first date."

"No, its fine, I'm- I'm glad you showed me," Gerard tells him, with a smile. "You always jump to conclusions if I don't say anything."

"Sorry," Frank repeats, looking down and rubbing at the back of his neck, "I just get nervous if I say something and I think you've taken it the wrong way or it was something you weren't expecting, or didn't want, and I just-" Frank says, babbling quickly.

"Frank," Gerard says, stopping him mid-sentence, "don't worry, nothing you say to me is gonna be 'wrong'."

"Yeah, I know, I just- I really like you, and it makes me nervous cause I haven't felt this way before and I really don't want to mess this up because I really do like you."

"I should hope so, cause we were making out like five minutes ago and it's still our first date," Gerard says, amazed at his new-found confidence, something about Frank being nervous is helping him to not be, but still he's feeling the underlying worry of losing Frank, in any way.

Frank laughs nervously, "Yeah, why did we stop that, again?"

"You wanted to show me your bench," Gerard reminds him.

"Right," Frank says, and then he's stepping forward again, closing the distance between them until their lips are pressed together, Gerard sighing into the embrace.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty short but it was also typed up completely on my phone, because my internets been playing up, which is why I couldn't update yesterday.

"So no sex?" Pete asks the second Gerard walks in the door, sitting watching TV as if he had been waiting up for Gerard, which, knowing Pete, he probably had just to make fun of and tease Gerard.

Gerard sighs, "It was our  _first_ date."

"Well, you never know. Unless you went to his for a quickie and then didn't stay the night, just so I wouldn't get suspicious. So, for future reference, I will  _always_ get suspicious."

"Oh my god," Gerard says, kicking off his shoes before collapsing on the sofa next to Pete, "why do I still live with you?"

"Because I'm great company and I never cease to stop entertaining you. Also, you'd probably be dead without me."

"I wouldn't be  _dead_. I survived a couple of hundred years without you."

"You so  _would_ be dead. You'd die from, like, starvation because you never go to the store, or from spending too much time in the sun because you forgot that it's really good at burning us, because you spend so much time inside and never seeing it. Or, you could just die from, like, a complete and utter lack of human interaction."

"I would be happy to never have to interact with anyone ever again. Especially you."

Pete pulled a hurt face, bringing a hand to his chest in mock offence. "I'm pretty sure you'd mind never being able to interact with Frank ever again."

"That sounds vaguely threatening."

"I'm not  _that_ much of an idiot to threaten Frank in front of you. I don't want to be killed. Anyway, I was just implying that you  _do_ care about some kinds of human interaction, and also, that you should remember that I'm the reason you've found Frank again, so you should be thanking me instead of threatening to move out."

"I'm so touched that you consider that me saying I want to move out is a threat."

"You forget that you're, like, my best friend."

"No sarcastic retort? You've gotta be ill or something. Shouldn't you find someone your own age?"

"I could say the same about the twenty year old you're dating."

"He's twenty _two_ , and we're not  _dating_. We've just been on one date."

"You're still, like, two and a half centuries older than him. How  _was_ the date, anyway? Besides the lack of sex?"

"Do you think about anything other than sex?" Gerard asks, sighing despite the smile on his face. "But it was awesome, we talked and, uh...stuff."

"Where did he take you?"

"To the park. He showed me all the stars and stuff and then this bench that was hidden in the middle of the small forest area there."

"Sounds awesome," Pete says with a nod, "what was the 'stuff'?"

"Huh?"

"You said you talked and 'stuff'. Not much 'stuff' can go on besides talking in the middle of the forest. There's a lot of privacy, though," he says, accompanied by a suggestive look.

"Shut up," Gerard says, feeling himself flushing a dark red, "we did maybe, kind of, like, kiss a bit."

"'Maybe, kind of, a bit,' you're like a teenage girl."

"Well, what do you want me to say?"

"I dunno," Pete says with a shrug, "aren't you glad you've finally gotten to kiss him again after several decades?"

"Definitely," Gerard says, probably too quickly, "but something happened, like, when we kissed I got reminded of all these old kisses from before, that I didn't even realise I remembered."

"Isn't that normal? Like, a similar event can trigger old memories or some crap?"

"Yeah, but then he said _he_ remembered too."

"What? No way, like-"

"He didn't completely remember," Gerard explains, before Pete can continue, "he said it was like déjà vu, and he couldn't quite see the memory. He was just as confused I as was."

"That hasn't happened before, right?"

"No, _never._ It's always just like meeting a new person, he doesn't remember anything, or remember me. But now he has, kind of, I guess, and there's something about him, too. He reminds me of the Frank I first met."

"Doesn't he always?"

"Well, yeah, but...it's like, more than normal. I can hardly remember him anymore, but from the few memories I have, they're exactly the same."

"In what way? What's different than how Frank's similar normally?"

"Well, he's always pretty similar personality-wise, and I can't remember enough to judge off that, but he looks _exactly_ the same. Normally he just looks really similar, like brothers. But this time it's like twins. And there's something else, I don't know what, it just  _feels_ like him."

"Are you sure this isn't just because you haven't seen him in forever, so now everything he does it feels like it's just like him?"

"I- I don't know. Maybe. But what happened when we kissed, that was definitely new."

"Have you heard of it happening before?"

"I haven't even heard of reincarnation happening before."

"Never?"

"It's not exactly a thing that comes up in general conversation. I don't really go around telling people, 'Oh, yeah, my boyfriend keeps getting reincarnated, and I only remember because I'm immortal, has that ever happened to you?'"

"Maybe it's because you're _soulmates_ ," Pete says with a grin.

"Yeah, like you actually believe any of that shit."

"Well, I didn't think I did, but it makes sense, right? Like, you're born within the same generation as your soulmate, which you were, and then you get a chance to be together, but then because you're _immortal_ , that kinda messes things up, so Frank keeps getting reincarnated so you two can be together."

"I like your romantic theory, which sounds nothing like you, by the way, but couldn't it just be that everyone gets reincarnated, and it's some amazing coincidence that I keep meeting or managing to find Frank?"

"Yeah, but you can always tell that Frank is Frank just by his looks, so I think people would notice if, like, someone that looks remarkably like George Washington was walking around, right?"

"I guess, I don't know, none of this really makes sense, I've just accepted it because I'm lucky enough to be able to stay with Frank, even if there are several decade long intervals, which he always forgets me after."

"I guess- I have no idea, this isn't really something you can figure out or just google, is it?"

"Sadly, no."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unfortunately another short one because I've been super busy lately but I'm fairly positive the next one (or few) will be longer.

A day or so later, Frank calls Gerard up, asking him to come round to his new apartment to help him unpack, and sort out various pieces of furniture that were stuck on the ground floor of his apartment building. He had gone over as quickly as he could; wanting to spend as much time with Frank as possible now that he knew that Frank reciprocated his feelings, and they spent most of the afternoon lugging chairs and a table and a sofa upstairs. Once they were both exhausted, and the apartment had some kind of vague organisation, Frank went into the kitchen to make coffee to keep them both awake, and Gerard started to unpack one of his boxes, that happened to be full of DVDs, when he found an old movie he hadn’t seen in years, and when Frank returned into the living room with the coffee, he managed to convince him to let them watch it, since they’d already spent most of the day working.

 

“How does this thing even work…?” Frank mumbles, pressing different buttons and frowning at his DVD player.

“Haven’t you watched a DVD before?” Gerard asks with a laugh, for once not feeling like the least tech-savvy in the room.

“I don’t know, I normally just use my laptop,” Frank says, fiddling around some more.

He eventually gets it to work, and, with a triumphant grin, turns back and walks over to Gerard’s position on the sofa.

“You look proud of yourself,” Gerard states as Frank sits down, curling up to him and his heat.

“I am,” Frank says with another grin, looking even more pleased when the TV starts up, the title sequence appearing on the screen. “You’re always so cold,” he whispers absentmindedly, after finding the remote and pressing the play button.

“I thought we already figured this out,” Gerard replies, just moving even closer to Frank, despite the shiver that went through him.

“That doesn’t mean you’re still not _cold_.”

Gerard shrugs, smiling into Frank’s shoulder, “You can warm me up,” he mumbles, trying to ignore the _other_ , and probably more effective, way Frank could warm him up, that he’d been avoiding thinking about since Pete had brought it up.

“You’re so corny,” Frank laughs, but grabs a blanket folded over the side of the sofa, bringing it round the two of them. Gerard smiles again at the gesture, moving impossibly closer to Frank, trying to ignore the nagging thought at the back of his mind telling him that he and Frank had only been on _one_ date, so they could hardly be considered dating, nor could this behaviour be considered appropriate after one date, but now that Gerard finally knew that Frank liked him back, he found it hard not to act like they’d been married, or at least dating, for years, even though they’d never actually _been_ married.

“I know,” Gerard whispers, probably after too long a pause, letting his head drop down and rest against Frank shoulder, watching the movement on the screen happily, hardly paying attention to what was happening.

 

 

Frank wakes up halfway through the night, feeling stiff and sore from the awkward position. He can feel Gerard next to him, heavy with sleep against his side. “Gerard,” he whispers, “wake up,” he says, shaking him gently and trying to slip out from underneath him.

“Come on,” Frank says, when Gerard finally starts stirring, “let’s get in my bed, it’ll be comfier, and you’re far too out of it to actually drive home.”

“Mmm, are you trying to seduce me?” Gerard mumbles, barely even half awake, letting Frank drag him up and off of the sofa, and start leading him towards the bedroom.

“You wish,” Frank retorts sarcastically, eventually getting Gerard through the door and into his bedroom, completely empty except for the double bed sitting in the centre of the far wall. “Come on,” he repeats, gently pushing Gerard down onto one side of the bed, before climbing into the other himself, then shuffling closer to Gerard, settling in quickly.

Gerard starts to wake up properly once he’s lying down again, and sighs when he realises he isn’t going to be getting back to sleep any time soon; normally the second he lies down on a bed or sofa or _anything_ he’d be asleep, but now that he’s fairly awake and fully aware of Frank’s body lying next to his, he can’t focus on anything but that, least of all sleep.

Frank is curled up by his side, his head resting gently against Gerard’s shoulder, a hand curled loosely around Gerard’s waist. Just when Gerard is about to turn away slowly, in the hopes of getting away from Frank so he can sleep, but without waking him up, he feels Frank’s arm shift, dragging across his stomach to rest on his hip, before starting to trace patterns on the small area of skin exposed from Gerard’s rucked up shirt.

“Is it-” Frank starts out of nowhere, after a while, cutting himself off before he finishes, and Gerard turns to look at him, seeing him frown, a small crease forming between his eyebrows.

“What?” Gerard asks, waiting silently for Frank to continue.

“Do you think it’s too soon to go on a second date?” he finally asks. “Sorry,” he continues, when Gerard doesn’t say anything, mostly out of shock, “I just really like you, and, I dunno, that just makes me want to ignore all those stupid dating rules and just go for it. I’ve never wanted something like this before, I’ve never wanted to just spend every second with someone. But with you, I do,” he admits, turning to face Gerard, “it kind of scares me, a bit, but I guess I might as well make the most of it, right?” he asks, laughing nervously.

“Frank, you have no idea how much I like you. I don’t know what any dating protocols are anymore, but I know that I really like you and just want to spend all the time I can get with you.”

Frank’s nervous expression finally breaks into a smile, “All these dating protocols are stupid, anyway, like, having to wait however many days just before you _call_ someone. I mean, why wait? If you really like the person, then shouldn’t you just _ask_ them or talk to them or _whatever_ straight away? If that somehow scares them off, then they’re not the right person. I’m tired of all these stupid rules we have in place to stop ourselves from seeming clingy. I don’t care, I’m clingy and I really like you, and I want to go on another date, is that okay?”

“That’s perfect.”  



	14. Chapter 14

“What’s your brother’s full name? Does he have a middle name?” Pete asks the second Gerard walks through the front door of their apartment, still half asleep and wearing yesterday’s clothes.

Gerard sighs, “You’re still searching for him?”

“I’m determined to find him, you know. You might as well just help me,” Pete says, looking up from his laptop to look Gerard up and down, a slow smile spreading across his face, “Did you guys have sex?”

“No, we didn’t, fuck off,” Gerard says with a sigh, collapsing down onto the sofa opposite Pete. “It’s James. His middle name. And his first names actually Michael, but he uses Mikey for everything he can. And he hardly uses his middle name.”

Pete nods, looking back at his laptop, “I feel like a fucking spy, or something.”

“You’re definitely _not_ a spy.”

“I could so be a spy. I could be living a double life that you don’t know about.”

“Yeah, sure. That still doesn’t mean you can find him, or that I _want_ you to find him.”

“Don’t you want to see him again? I mean, he’s your _brother_.”

“Of course I want to see him again!” Gerard exclaims, stopping himself when he notices his voice rising in volume and pitch. “That doesn’t mean that _he_ will want to see _me_ ,” he says, quieter.

“It’s been years. Decades. He must’ve gotten over it by now.”

“He never tried to find me again.”

“ _You’ve_ never tried to find _him_ again.”

Gerard sighs again, trying to ignore the amount of sense Pete’s making, because, either way, he still doesn’t know how Mikey would react to Gerard trying to see him, to talk to him, again; it’d been so long since they’d seen each other, the bad terms they’d left each other on making it seem even longer.

“Besides, how do you know he’s never tried to find you before?”

Gerard’s thoughts freeze, Pete’s words throwing him for a moment. “I’m not exactly the hardest to find,” he mumbles, just trying to find any excuse. What if Mikey _had_ tried to find him before? Despite Gerard’s worries, he knew Mikey didn’t tend to hold grudges and, now that he thought about it, he wouldn’t be surprised if Mikey had tried to find him not long after they’d fought; he was annoyed at him, sure, but he understood that Gerard had been struggling then, and would’ve come back to help him. So why hadn’t he _found_ him yet? If was trying to, that is.

“You’re not exactly the easiest,” Pete retorts, “you left Jersey, where he last saw you, and has really only _ever_ seen you, and you’re not really the kind to spontaneously move. You don’t have a job, your name isn’t on the lease of our apartment, you don’t use credit cards or anything, you don’t even fucking _shop_ , let alone go to any kind of social events. How is he supposed to find you?”

“I- fuck,” Gerard says, trying to think, he thought he’d be _easy_ to find, it’s not like he’s trying to hide, but Pete’s right, and he’s not really enough of an active participant in society to be able to be found easily. “What if he _was_ trying to find me?”

“What if he still is?”

Gerard frowns, biting his lip, “I don’t know why he would, though.”

“Gerard, from what you’ve told me you guys were, like, best friends. I doubt he’d let something stupid get between the two of you for fucking eternity, or however long we all end up living.”

“I don’t know…” Gerard says, still unsure, “Even if he was, or is, trying to find me, how would _you_ find him?”

“I don’t know, I bet he leaves the house more than you, though.”

“Everyone leaves the house more than me.”

“Finally, you get it.” Pete looks up to grin at Gerard quickly, before glancing back down.

“He’d go to a lot of parties and stuff,” Gerard says, deciding he might as well try and help Pete, even if most information he could give probably wouldn’t be particularly helpful, “he managed to socialise with, like, anyone.”

“So your hermit tendencies aren’t genetic?” Pete jokes, getting serious again, hardly noticing the scowl Gerard gave him. “So, like, parties at clubs and stuff?”

“Uh, I guess?” Gerard says with a frown. “How would that even help?”

Pete shrugs, “You never know, he might be on some lists or something.”

“How are you supposed to find _those_ , though?”

Pete shrugs again, “I’m gonna find him, though, don’t worry.”

Gerard sighs for what felt like the hundredth time, “That’ll just make me worry even more.”

“Oh, suck it up, he’s your brother, it’s not like he’s gonna just ignore you when you’ve spent ages trying to find him.”

“ _You_ have spent ages trying to find him.”

“He doesn’t need to know that, though.”

“He’ll know, somehow, he always does. Plus, he knows I’m shit at anything to do with technology or the internet.”

“Yeah, I know, I’ve seen how you type on your phone,” Pete says with another grin, narrowly avoiding a cushion Gerard had launched at his head.

“So, what happened with Frank?” Pete asks after a couple more minutes of silence, finally closing up his laptop and dropping it next to him, “If it wasn’t sex.”

“It _wasn’t_ ,” Gerard confirms. “We just, like, slept together.”

Pete raises one eyebrow, “That sounds awfully close to sex.”

Gerard rolls his eyes at him, “I helped him bring all his furniture up to his apartment,” he explains, “and we were both exhausted, so we put on a movie, and ended up falling asleep. And then moved to his bed,” he finishes, mumbling the last sentence quickly.

Pete’s face breaks into an ear-splitting grin, always taking joy in making fun of Gerard’s embarrassment over Frank. “Who initiated this moving process?”

“Don’t talk so posh,” Gerard says, rolling his eyes again.

“Answer my question and I’ll stop,” Pete says, staring at Gerard intently.

“Frank,” he finally says after more staring on Pete’s part, feeling his cheeks flush.

Pete raises an eyebrow again, but doesn’t make any more sex jokes, much to Gerard’s surprise, “How did he even say that, ‘come to my bed, not for sex, just sleep’?”

“He just said that it was, like, comfier. He woke up halfway through the night or something and woke me up too, because his sofa was uncomfortable as hell.”

“So that’s it, you carried his furniture and then slept?”

“And he asked me out on another date,” Gerard says, beaming, practically feeling his own eyes light up.

“You are so falling head over heels for this guy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was another short one just so I could get another update in, after this I'll have to take a small break (hopefully no more than a week, maybe less) because I have to figure out some planning things later on and get ahead on some of the writing, but afterwards there should be longer chapters and more frequent updates again (maybe daily if I can manage it).


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, a much longer chapter that normal that (hopefully) makes up for the wait.

“Hey,” Frank says when Gerard opens the door, a huge grin plastered across his face.

Gerard can’t help but laugh, “Hey,” he replies, taking in Frank’s appearance; he’s dressed somewhat smarter than last time, still wearing his black skinny jeans, now paired with a plaid button down and dark denim jacket, and Gerard’s glad he didn’t just go for the baggy hoodie and jeans look.

“So are you gonna actually tell me where we’re going this time?” Gerard asks, stepping out the door and locking it behind him, looking at Frank expectantly.

“Mmm, maybe,” Frank muses, walking to the elevator, Gerard following next to him.

“You’re gonna run out of surprises, eventually,” Gerard tells him, pressing the button to go to the ground floor.

“Exactly, so I’m gonna make the most of it while I still can,” Frank says with another grin.

When they reach the bottom floor, they walk out the front of the building, Frank leading the way, then get in either side of Frank’s car, the inside filling with music as Frank starts it up and they drive away.

 

“So I have this friend who works in this art museum or gallery or whatever,” Frank says when the car stops, “and he said he could get us in after hours, and I kind of presumed you liked art, because there was a ton of art stuff all around your apartment, and now I’m thinking it could’ve been Pete’s, but I feel like it’s more likely to be yours so I hope you’re interested in all this stuff and I just thought it’d be a cool idea but if you-” Frank says nervously, talking a mile a minute.

Gerard laughs, cutting Frank off, “Don't worry, that stuff was mine, and this is an awesome idea.”

“Thank god,” Frank says, his grin returning, “If I’m gonna keep surprising you I need to make sure they’re all awesome surprises,” he adds as he climbs out of the car, waiting for Gerard to do the same, then walks with him towards the front entrance of the museum.

 

Gerard waits to the side while Frank talks to his friend standing in his security uniform just inside the door, he listens to them joking, Frank’s friend teasingly threatening him to not steal anything, or to lose him his job. He just waits in silence until they’re done, praying Frank won’t try to introduce him or bring him into the conversation, sighing in relief when they say their goodbyes and the guy lets them through.

“So, where do you want to go first?” Frank asks once they’re both inside, turning to look at Gerard with another smile spread across his face.

Gerard shrugs, “Wherever you want.”

“Uh, okay, let’s go this way,” Frank suggests, pointing down one hallway, the two of them turning to start walking in that direction, looking at the different pieces of art as they walk past them, “I’ve never been here before,” he admits.

“Me neither,” Gerard says, “I don’t go to many art museums, really.”

“Not even for, like, inspiration or whatever?”

Gerard shrugs, “I can never be bothered. Just ask Pete, I can hardly be bothered to get out of bed most days.”

“You’ve left your bed plenty of times since we’ve met.”

Gerard shrugs again, not willing to admit to Frank that he’s the reason he’s getting out of bed, and his absence was the reason he ended up staying in bed so much.

“So what’s it like to, like, see the evolution or development or whatever of the human race?” Frank asks after they’d both gone quiet.

“What do you mean?” Gerard asks, confused by the sudden change of topic.

“Well, you were born before there was, like, Wi-Fi and computers and phones and pretty much all technology that everyone uses practically every day now, isn’t that weird?”

“I dunno, it’s all kind of introduced slowly, so it’s not likely suddenly one day everyone was using laptops and internet and mobile phones.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Frank says. “What was it like growing up in the 1700s?”

“Horrible. Well, it wasn’t as bad at the time, really, but if I went back now, it would be so much worse, compared to this.”

“Do you know any other vampires that are as old as you?”

Gerard shakes his head, “Only my brother. He and Pete and pretty much the only other vampires I know, and Pete’s not even thirty yet.”

“What happened with you and your brother?”

“It’s, uh, a long story.”

“It can’t be _that_ long.”

“Something...happened and he got pissed at me because I just wasn’t listening to him or anyone and I just kind of pushed him away.”

“What happened?”

“I- It’s complicated, someone died and I was really messed up over it and there’s a lot more stuff I’d have to explain first.”

“You can tell me whenever you’re ready,” Frank reassures him. “Can I ask who died, though?”

That’s the complicated part that he can’t tell Frank yet, Gerard thinks. “Just…this guy, that was, like…we…” he stutters, trying to come up with something that won’t make Frank feel put out, even though he’s probably realised by now that Gerard would’ve been with other people.

“I get it,” Frank says, noticing the worry on Gerard’s face, “Don’t worry, I could’ve lived my life over ten times in the time you’ve lived yours, I don’t expect to be the only person.”

Gerard nods, not saying anything else.

“Have you ever, I don’t know if you even _can_ , but have you ever had kids or anything?”

Gerard laughs at the concerned look on Frank’s face, feeling himself relax again, “No, I doubt vampires can even have kids, let alone gay vampires.”

Frank relaxes too, his face breaking into a small smile, “I was worried, because your kids would probably be older than me and that would be weird as fuck.”

“Yeah, no, that’s way too weird.”

“Have you ever been married?” Frank asks now, going back to his questions.

“Once,” Gerard admits.

Gerard feels Frank tense up next to him, in surprise, or jealously, or both, he can’t tell. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Gerard confirms, “it was an arranged marriage, though,” he says, and he can feel Frank relax again, “my parents found out I was gay and dating another guy, so they had to put a stop to that before _anyone_ found out and they became the disgraces of the village.”

“Oh,” Frank says, sounding slightly disappointed.

“Are you jealous?” Gerard asks with a smirk, looking sideways just in time to see Frank’s cheeks flush red, before he tried to hide it but ducking his head, hair falling in his face.

“No, not of the girl, but-” he says, looking up and seeing Gerard’s smug expression, “shut up.”

Gerard just grins wider, laughing to himself about the irony of the situation, hoping to distract himself from all the blood now at the surface of Frank’s skin; he’d never had problems before with thinking about Frank like this, and he didn’t want to start now.

 

“Tell me something about you,” Gerard says after they’d walked a bit further, admiring some of the art and talking mindlessly about anything and everything.

“Like what?”

“Anything.” Gerard mostly just wants to get to know Frank better; Frank kept asking him all these questions, even though a lot of them were about vampires in general, and Gerard hardly asked any in return, because he already felt like he knew Frank better than he knew most people, but he didn’t know anything specific, about _this_ life. “Where did you grow up?”

“New Jersey.”

“Really?” Gerard asks, surprised, cursing himself for actually moving out of Jersey when Frank could’ve been there the whole time, “I spent, like, practically my entire life there until several years ago.”

“I thought you had a kind of Jersey accent,” Frank says with a laugh.

“Do you have any siblings or anything?”

Frank shakes his head, “My parents were divorced too, so it was just me and my mum for most of my childhood.”

“That sounds lonely,” Gerard says; he didn’t interact with many people when he was younger, he still doesn’t, but at least he had Mikey to talk to and hang out with at home.

“Yeah, I guess,” Frank shrugs, “I’d make friends at school and stuff though, and we’d all practically live in my basement for band practice since I was, like, eleven.”

“So you definitely knew you wanted to be in a band?”

“Wouldn’t dream of doing anything else,” Frank says. “But what do _you_ do, do you have a job?”

“I haven’t had a job in forever, I was lucky I saved money when I was younger because now I don’t need one, for now, at least.”

“What did you do when you were younger?”

“Mostly art stuff, I didn’t really want to get stuck alternating between boring 9 to 5 office jobs for the rest of my life, so I pretty much avoided them at all costs. Sometimes I’d just work as an independent artist and try and sell my stuff, then I worked as a teacher for a bit, and I did some illustration too.”

“Have you ever had your work in a gallery or museum?”

“I have no idea, I doubt it,” Gerard laughs, “I never signed my work and made sure no one that bought anything knew my name; if someone found some old 18th century painting by Gerard Way, and then find that he’s illustrating comic books in the 20th century, it probably wouldn’t end well.”

“What about now that people know about vampires? Would you actually start taking credit for your work now?”

“I guess, if I started again.”

“Can I ever see some of your work?”

Gerard looked over at Frank, surprised; it had been ages since anyone had shown an interest in his work, especially now that his only ‘work’ is drawings done in his spare time.

“If you really want to.”

“Awesome,” Frank says, breaking into another big smile.

 

“So is the whole thing true about, like, vampires can’t be seen in mirrors or photos?” Frank asks, deciding to continue with his vampire questions, once they’d continued walking again after pausing to figure out what the hell was going on in one of the paintings.

“Uh, I don’t know really. I don’t think so? I’m pretty sure I’ve looked in a mirror. I haven’t had a photo taken of me, though. So, maybe, maybe not.”

“You’ve _never_ had a photo taken of you?”

“I’ve managed to avoid it since cameras became a popular thing, mainly because I don’t _want_ any photos of me, and then if I end up not showing up in it, then there’s not really any explanation that makes _sense_ , and I couldn’t really just say ‘oh yeah, I’m a vampire’.”

“Have you asked Pete?” Frank pauses to look at a painting, squinting at something, then continuing next to Gerard.

“Uh, no, I probably should; he’ll be way more likely to have a photo taken of him than me.”

“What about for, like, IDs and drivers licences and stuff?”

“I’ve pretty much avoided getting those, too. If I need to drive anywhere I just borrow Pete’s car and pray I don’t get pulled over. I mean, like, even if photos weren’t an issue, and even now that the existence of vampires is a publicly known thing, it’s still annoying as fuck to go through everything. Like, they ask my date of birth, and I say April 9th fucking 1726, they’ll just turn me away.”

“That’s your birthday?”

Gerard nods, not really understanding why Frank looks so surprised, “Why?”

“I dunno, I just feel like you’re a vampire, an _old_ vampire, you’re like…” he pauses, working it out in his head, “two-hundred and fucking eighty-nine, it feels like you shouldn’t have a birthday, you’re just kind of, like…I don’t know, I’m not making sense.”

Gerard laughs, “Vampires have birthdays too; we’re not all born on, like, Halloween.”

Frank’s face breaks into an ear-splitting grin, “I am, though.”

“No way, that’s bullshit. No one has a birthday that cool.”

“Yeah but I’m, like, just as cool as my birthday, so it works,” Frank says, grinning again.

“You wish,” Gerard says, nudging Frank slightly, who does it back, but doesn’t move away, instead staying pressed close to Gerard, looking like he’s about to rest his head on his shoulder while they’re still walking along, but settles for interlacing Gerard’s fingers with his own, instead.

“So,” Frank says after another few minutes of silence, just the two of them walking through the empty halls, barely looking at the art anymore, “you said vampire’s body clocks are, like, reversed or whatever, yeah?”

“Yeah?”

“You always seem to be awake whenever I come round, and when I lived with you, you and Pete weren’t like, spending the day in coffins.”

Gerard laughs at the mental image of that, “Yeah, no coffins, but it is _easier_ to sleep in the day, we’ve just tried to force ourselves to sleep at night to try and get a somewhat vaguely normal and _human_ routine, even though I end up spending most of the day in bed anyway.”

“So, it’s easier for you to sleep in the day even though you’ve tried to kind of change your body clock?”

“Yeah, and if I go to sleep in the day and I haven't already slept in the night, then I’m _asleep_ , I’m in, like, a freaking coma. Don’t ever try to wake me up before sunset.”

“Got it, don’t wake a vampire up during their evil slumber.”

Gerard laughs, intending to come up with some kind of retort, but then Frank’s pulling him over to one of the benches against the wall, distracting him before he can think of anything. Frank rests his head on Gerard’s shoulder, sighing contentedly, keeping one hand interlaced with Gerard’s, and tracing patterns on the back of Gerard’s hand with the other.

“Are these because of your birthday?” Gerard asks, turning their hands over to show the ‘hallo’ written across Frank’s knuckles.

Frank nods, lifting his head up to watch as Gerard traces over the letters with one finger.

“What do all your tattoos mean?” Gerard asks, turning to look at Frank.

“That’ll take a while,” Frank laughs, eyes still trained on their interlaced hands.

“Okay,” Gerard says, leaning closer, his breath hot on Frank’s cheek, “what’s this one for?” he asks, and Frank’s about to ask which one he means when he feels Gerard’s lips connect with his neck, mouthing gently at the skin – and tattoo – there.

“That, uh,” Frank says, stuttering because of Gerard’s fucking _mouth_ , now sucking a bruise just below the tattoo, “I had a, uh, dream when I was on tour, that I’d have to go home and get a-” he gasps, feeling the barely-there scrape of Gerard’s fangs, “-normal job, so I got this, as high up as I could, to make sure I wouldn’t be able to get a job.”

“Mmhm,” Gerard hums into his neck, his tongue darting out over the rapidly forming bruise there.

“ _Gerard_ ,” Frank gasps, barely holding back a whimper when he pulls away, his breathy laugh making Frank shiver when it hits the wet skin on his neck.

“Yeah?” Gerard asks teasingly, smirking at Frank.

“You’re- you’re a vampire,” Frank states, turning to face Gerard, overestimating the distance Gerard had left between them, and finding him closer than he can manage while still maintaining a normal thought process.

“I thought we established that,” Gerard laughs, his breath mingling with Frank’s.

“Do you, like, drink from people?” Frank asks, eyes not moving from Gerard’s lips.

“Not anymore…” Gerard says, frowning at Frank, “Not since everyone started to accept vampires and blood became more, like, accessible.”

“But you’ve drunk from people before?”

Gerard nods slowly, still confused.

“Is it nicer? Than, like, drinking from those weird pouches they sell.”

“Yeah, but…”

“So, if you-”

“Frank, what are you getting at?” Gerard interrupts, leaning back slightly.

“Bite me.”

“No,” Gerard says straight away, eyes wide and suddenly full of fear, “no, Frank, I can’t,” he says, shaking his head.

“Why not? I _want_ you to, Gee, I've thought about it. You said it was the nice kind of pain, and if it’s nicer for you, then…why not?”

“Because I could _hurt_ you.”

“No, you wouldn’t. I _know_ you wouldn’t.”

“I don’t trust myself to do it.”

“ _I_ trust you.”

“Frank, you could trust me completely and utterly and I could still end up draining you dry!”

“You could stop,” Frank says, quieter and less confident than before, “I know you’d be able to.”

“Frank,” Gerard says, voice softening, leaning back in again, changing his tactics, “can we not talk about this now?” he asks, letting his lips brush lightly over Frank’s neck again, kissing it softly.

“If you promise to _think_ about it,” Frank gasps, trying not to let Gerard distract him, especially when he runs his fangs along his jaw, stopping and pressing harder at the soft skin below his ear, not quite piercing the skin. “You’re such a- _fucking_ \- tease,” Franks stutters, trying to focus on controlling his breathing.

“Hmm?”

“You can’t do _that_ and then not expect me to want you to bite me.”

“I could stop, if you want?” Gerard asks, pulling away just enough to smirk at Frank again.

“No fucking _way_.”

Gerard laughs, kissing Frank lightly on the side of his mouth, smiling when he turns into the kiss. “Maybe we should go,” Gerard suggests when he pulls away.

“Yeah,” Frank says breathlessly, “definitely, good idea.”                          

Gerard laughs again, standing up and pulling Frank along behind him eagerly.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a great way to celebrate same-sex marriage becoming legal throughout america (congrats to everyone in america!!) (also, I didn't the chance to review this one last time before I post it so if I've made any mistakes sorry and please let me know so I can fix them)

Gerard shuts the door behind the both of them when they get back to his apartment, and the second he hears it click shut, there’s two hands on his shoulders, pushing him back, until he’s pinned up to the door.

“Hey,” Frank whispers quietly, his breath tickling Gerard’s chin, and then he’s pulling down on the back of his neck, bringing Gerard’s lips down to meet his own. Gerard sighs into the kiss, feeling Frank melting against him, keeping their bodies close together, Gerard’s back pressed up against the door. He brings his arms up around Frank, lacing his fingers in with his hair, tugging slightly, trying to pull Frank even closer, and smiling against his mouth when he feels Frank moan into his. Gerard opens his mouth, inviting Frank’s tongue inside, which Frank accepts eagerly, before pulling away after a few moments with a breathy laugh, not taking his eyes away from Gerard, or more specifically, his lips.

“What?” Gerard asks, frowning.

“I can feel your fangs,” Frank says with a smirk, pulling Gerard’s shirt out of the way and kissing along his collarbone.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” Gerard says, feeling himself blush.

Frank shakes his head, keeping his mouth pressed against Gerard’s skin, humming against it and making Gerard shiver, “It’s hot.”

“Oh, really?” Gerard asks, raising one eyebrow and smirking down at Frank, who finally looks up again.

“Definitely,” he says, leaning back up to kiss Gerard, wrapping his arms around Gerard’s neck and slipping his knee between Gerard’s legs, pushing up not at all subtly or gently, making Gerard’s breath catch in his throat.

“Frank…” he says, barely a whisper.

“Yeah,” Frank whispers back, kissing Gerard again, trying to deepen it when he pulls away, out of nowhere.

“Pete?” Gerard calls out, trying not to yell in Frank’s ear. He waits a few moments, and when he gets no reply, tries again. When there’s still no reply he grins looking back at Frank.

“What was that about?” Frank asks, his face scrunched up in confusion and Gerard can’t stand how cute he looks in that moment.

“He’s not home,” Gerard says with another smile, twisting round and pulling Frank away from the door, in the vague direction of his bedroom, but when they pass the living room, Frank pushes him in there, until he falls backwards onto the sofa underneath him.

“Mmm,” Gerard hums as Frank kisses him again, deep and slow, “I was gonna suggest the bedroom.”

Frank shrugs, “Too far away,” he explains, sitting up slightly to straddle Gerard’s hips, before bending back down again, kissing all along Gerard’s jaw and neck.

“It’s barely…a couple…of feet,” Gerard says, between Frank’s kisses.

“A couple of feet too many,” Frank says breathlessly, taking a moment to pause, his forehead resting against Gerard’s, just watching him.

“Frank, I-” Gerard says, avoiding Frank’s eyes, “I- I haven’t-”

“Don’t say you’re a three-hundred-year-old virgin, I couldn’t even believe the whole hundred-year-old virgin thing in Twilight, but _three_ hundred?”

“No,” Gerard says, with a nervous laugh, “no, I…just haven’t done this in…a while.”

“How long?”

“Uh, crap, I don’t know. A long time,” Gerard says, amazed he can still even form coherent sentences when Frank’s weight is still pressing insistently down on him like that.

Frank lets out another breathy laugh, “We can go slowly,” he tells Gerard, kissing him lightly on the lips, before trailing feather-light kisses down his chin, neck, and onto his chest, trying to keep his shirt from getting in the way by tugging the collar sideways.

“Take it off,” Frank mumbles, desperately pulling at Gerard’s shirt, not even bothering to try and take it off himself, just letting Gerard know that he wants it _off_.

Gerard shakes his head, “Just- bed, first, _please_ ,” he finishes, with a choked off moan when Frank grinds down against him, a knowing smirk on his lips.

Then, just as quickly as he was there, Frank was gone again, his weight disappearing from on top of Gerard, and instead he extends a hand out for Gerard to take, “Come on,” he says, pulling Gerard up, catching him when he stumbles forward, and dragging him into the bedroom nearby.

Once they’re inside, Gerard spins them round, pushing Frank backwards onto the bed faster than he can process, and following on top of him.

Frank hums into Gerard’s mouth when he brings them together for another kiss, “Stop showing off your vampire superpowers.”

Gerard laughs, “’Superpowers’?” he repeats.

“Yeah,” Frank says, “a vampire could be a superhero if they wanted, you never know.”

“Too much superhero talk, not enough-” Gerard flaps his hand, in some weird gesture that Frank can’t even begin to attempt to understand.

He nods regardless, laughing when Gerard scowls at him, looking in no way intimidating while he’s panting with swollen lips, looking flushed and desperate. “You agreed to take this off,” Frank says, tugging at Gerard’s shirt again.

Gerard sighs, but pulls it over his head anyway, tossing it into the corner of the room, before turning back to Frank, trying to stop the colour rising to his cheeks under Frank’s stare.

“You’re gorgeous,” Frank whispers, running his hands over Gerard’s pale chest, fingers freezing over the scar just above his stomach and below his ribs, the skin silvery and uneven. Gerard tries to turn away, but Frank stops him, his free hand catching his chin and tilting it towards him, his eyes asking an unspoken question. Gerard gives a minute shake of his head, trying to hold back his sigh of relief when Frank nods, “Another time,” Frank agrees, not pushing any further, and instead pulling Gerard down by his shoulders, kissing him quickly.

“Your turn now,” Gerard says, breaking the kiss, sitting back to give Frank room, who sits up slightly, tugging the shirt over his head, and throwing into onto the floor beside the bed, before lying back down. Gerard’s breath catches in his throat, just letting himself take in the sight in front of him and just _Frank_. He traces his fingers over Frank’s tattoos; the flame and ‘hope’, the birds on either one of his hips, the ‘and’ between them, the few tattoos from his arms stretching out across his shoulders.

“Fuck,” Gerard whispers, leaning down and replacing his fingers with his mouth, kissing along each line of ink, sucking bruises onto the bare skin next to them.

“ _Gerard_ ,” Frank moans, squirming beneath him, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

Gerard laughs, his hands drifting down, letting his fingers brush over the obvious bulge growing in Frank’s jeans, feeling the satisfaction of hearing Frank’s breath hitch, taking his hand away when Frank’s hips twitch upwards, just to move up again, replacing it with his own hips, grinding down into him.

“Gee…” Frank moans, “ _Please_.”

Gerard nods, humming, “I have no idea what I’m doing, Frank,” he admits, barely stopping his kisses along Frank’s jaw.

“You seem to be doing…pretty well,” Frank says, with a gasp as Gerard grinds back down again.

Gerard laughs, now with an edge of nervousness, stopping his kisses to look Frank in the eyes.

“I’ll guide you,” Frank says, noticing Gerard’s nervousness. “Where’s your stuff?”

Gerard gestures behind him, “Second drawer,” he tells him.

Frank nods, then he’s climbing out from underneath Gerard and off the bed, collecting lube and a condom from the drawer. When he turns back, Gerard’s pulled off his jeans, left just in his boxers, and is kneeling on the edge of the bed. He pulls Frank back, having regained his confidence, pushing him onto the bed, placing the stuff carefully next to Frank, before starting to work on his jeans. He pulls them down _agonizingly_ slow, before tugging his boxers off quickly in contrast, freeing Frank’s erection. Gerard curls one hand loosely around him, jacking his cock slowly, teasingly, smirking up at him, knowing exactly what he’s doing to him.

“You’re such a fucking-” Frank says, gasping with a flick of Gerard’s wrist, “-liar.”

Gerard laughs, relishing in the fact that it’s _him_ that’s doing this to Frank, “I still haven’t done this in years.”

“Yeah, sure,” Frank says, breathily, “I bet-” he starts, cutting himself off with a choked off moan when Gerard moves down quickly, moving his hand away, instead licking a stripe up Frank’s dick.

“Fuck you,” Frank says instead, with a barely supressed thrust of his hips.

“Or I could just, _not_ blow you, you know?” Gerard teases, looking up at Frank with a smirk.

“Ugh, I fucking hate you,” Frank says, attempting to glare at Gerard and failing, because then Gerard’s pressing gentle kisses along Frank’s thigh, getting progressively closer to his crotch. “ _Please_ ,” he begs again.

“Mmhm,” Gerard hums against Frank’s skin, and Gerard can feel him smirking again, starting to move up again, stopping at the crease at the top of Frank’s thigh, nipping gently at the skin there, not piercing it, but Frank can see how tempted he is to.

“Go ahead,” Frank says, breath heavy between each word.

Gerard just shakes his head, not going further into the matter, sucking a bruise into Frank’s skin instead, making him gasp, then almost making him choke on his own breath when he sucks the head of Frank’s dick into his mouth before he can fully recover, just swirling his tongue round slowly.

“Fucking _hell_ , Gerard,” Frank moans, resisting the urge to thrust upwards again when Gerard starts sinking lower, oh so slowly.

Gerard hums something in response, driving Frank insane with the wet heat of his mouth, and the slow barely-there drag of his fangs.

“ _Fuck_ , I can feel your fangs,” Frank tells him, amazed he can form such a comprehensible sentence when Gerard’s doing _that_ with his tongue.

“Shit,” Gerard says, pulling off instantly, making Frank almost whimper at the loss, “sorry, did I hurt you?” he asks, concern written all over his face.

Frank shakes his head, “You reduced me to a fucking mess earlier just by running your fangs along my neck, on my _dick_ is even better, stop worrying,” he reassures him.

Gerard laughs, making Frank whimper at the hot air hitting his dick, “I wondered why you were so interested in vampires, I bet you had some weird vampire fetish in high school.”

“You’re a weird vampire fetish,” Frank retorts, not being able to think long enough to say anything that makes any more sense than that, when Gerard’s hand is back on him again, stroking him slowly.

Gerard laughs, “Yeah, yours,” he says, and Frank doesn’t bother trying to understand what the hell he means because the way Gerard flicks his wrist hits everything _just right_ , destroying any kind of thought in Frank’s head that makes sense other than _fuck_.

“Gerard- I’m-” Frank mumbles, hands gripping the sheets tightly, and then he’s coming over Gerard’s knuckles, just as he sinks his teeth into Frank’s thigh – deliberately not using his fangs, much to Frank’s disappointment.

“Fucking hell,” Frank says when he gets his breath back, feeling like a dead weight; boneless and exhausted.

Gerard laughs, moving back up on top of Frank to kiss him again, slower this time, but still with that edge of desperation, and Frank manages to pull enough thoughts to move his hand down, trying to unbutton Gerard’s jeans one-handed, sighing in frustration when he keeps failing, Gerard taking over from him with another laugh.

The second Gerard’s jeans are open, Frank’s reaching his hand inside and pulling his dick out, setting up a fast pace stroking him; he wants to tease him like Gerard had done to him earlier, honestly, he does, but he hardly has the patience for that when Gerard’s making noises like _that_ above him, face barely inches from his own.

It doesn’t take long before Gerard’s coming apart above him, into Frank’s hand, before collapsing on top of him, still breathing heavily, their stomachs sticky between them.

“You’re gross,” Frank laughs, “and heavy.”

“Mmhm,” Gerard hums in agreement, rolling off to Frank’s side, smiling blissfully at him, eyes half closed.

“Let’s get clean,” Frank urges him, as much as he wants to just close his eyes and drift off to sleep now, he doesn’t want to wake up in even more of a mess than he is at the moment.

“Mmm,” Gerard hums, eyes completely closed now, “tissues here,” he says, reaching to his side and passing Frank a box of tissues from his bedside table.

Frank rolls his eyes, starting to wipe himself down, watching as Gerard finally opens his eyes again, sighing and sitting up, pulling off his jeans before wiping himself off too.

“Can we sleep now?” Gerard asks, smiling sideways at Frank.

Frank nods, sinking back down lower in the bed, snuggling up to Gerard when he lies down next to him.

“We forgot the stuff,” Frank says with a laugh, putting onto the bedside table when he ends up accidentally kicking it with his foot.

“Mmm, next time,” Gerard murmurs, wrapping an arm around Frank and turning his face into his neck.

“It so hasn’t been years since you’ve done that,” Frank mumbles after a few minutes of silence, smiling to himself when he feels the arm Gerard had wrapped around him tighten, pulling him closer.

“I have good memory.”


	17. Chapter 17

“Mmm, you definitely shouldn’t have moved out,” Gerard says when he wakes up, realising Frank’s already awake – his head resting on Gerard’s shoulder, his face turned into Gerard’s neck – absentmindedly stroking over Frank’s hair.

“I wasn’t exactly moved in in the first place,” Frank reminds him.

“Whatever it was, it’d be nice because that means we could do this _way_ more often.”

“Yeah?” Frank asks, looking up at Gerard and twisting himself round so he’s lying on his stomach, facing him, chin now resting on Gerard’s still bare chest, “We can still do this pretty often, anyway.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Gerard says, humming contentedly when Frank leans forward to kiss him, soft and slow.

Frank breaks away with a laugh, dropping his forehead to rest against Gerard’s chest, and Gerard can hear the distinct rumble of Frank’s stomach, interrupted by another laugh, “Do you have any food?”

“Uh,” Gerard says, trying to mentally picture the insides of their probably empty cupboards and fridge, and failing, “I have no clue.”

Frank laughs again, moving away and sitting up, crossing his legs under the covers, tangling himself up in them in the process. “Do you have any clothes I can borrow?” he asks, “So I don’t end up scarring Pete if he’s home.”

“There should be some, uh, somewhere,” Gerard says, glancing around the mess of his room to try and spot something that looked vaguely clean. “Maybe in one of the drawers? I don’t know,” he says, moving to get up and look, but Frank beats him to it, going over to the chest of drawers and searching through each of the drawers until he finds one of Gerard’s old, barely recognisable Iron Maiden t-shirts, pulling it on with his boxers, then disappearing out of the room after telling Gerard about his mission to find food.

Gerard sits in bed for a few more minutes, then manages to convince himself to get out of the bed, finding and pulling on a pair of his old batman pyjamas before following Frank into the kitchen. He finds him looking through the fridge, seemingly unfazed by the packets of blood in there. He turns around with a grin when he hears Gerard come in, holding a carton of eggs and a jug of milk.

“Can we make pancakes?”

Gerard laughs, not being able to help it at seeing the excited, child-like expression on Frank’s face, emphasised more by how big Gerard’s t-shirt looks on him, making him look even smaller than normal, only contrasted by the tattoos covering his arms and scattered across his legs. “Yeah,” he tells him, “I don’t really know how to, though, except the actual cooking part. Kind of, I guess.”

“Have you never made pancakes before?” Frank asks, shock written clearly across his face.

Gerard laughs again, but shakes his head, “I mean, I’ve _had_ them before, like, not that many times, but I've never actually made them.”

“Oh my god, you’ve missed out on a crucial life lesson, so I need to give it to you, like, right now.”

“A life lesson that we get to eat,” Gerard jokes.

“The best kind.”

Gerard nods in agreement, watching as Frank moves across the kitchen, finding a bowl and pan that Gerard didn’t even know he owned.

“Do you have, like, flour and stuff?” Frank asks as Gerard starts fiddling with the coffee machine, so he can actually function like a normal person without falling asleep onto the pancakes that they’re about to make.

“Uh, maybe?” Gerard replies, just as clueless about the whereabouts of any of the food as Frank. Probably more so.

Frank laughs, shaking his head, “You’re so useless.”

Gerard pouts, finally getting the coffee machine to jump to life, “I have plenty of uses.”

“Yeah, okay, you earned your keep last night.” Frank smirks, coming up behind Gerard and resting his chin on Gerard’s shoulder, watching as he makes the coffee.

“Good,” Gerard says, wanting to pull Frank even closer, but with both hands occupied, he just has to stand there, willing Frank to step closer on his own.

“You know what would’ve made it better, though?” Frank asks, stepping closer and nuzzling his face into Gerard’s neck.

“What?”

“If you bit me,” Frank mumbles into his skin, emphasising his point by nipping lightly at it.

Gerard sighs, “You’re not gonna give up on this, are you?”

“No way,” Frank says, and Gerard can feel him smiling against his neck, before he’s stepping back again, continuing his search for the ingredients around the kitchen.

“Have you ever bitten someone that you actually, like, _know_ , or care about?”

Gerard shakes his head, “For the exact same reason I’m _not_ going to bite you.”

“You _want_ to though, don’t you?” Frank asks, climbing up and sitting on the countertop, after he’d found a bag of flour, and taken the butter out of the fridge, swinging his legs and smiling a thank you when Gerard hands him a coffee. Gerard’s just as surprised, probably more, as Frank that he actually found everything he needed; he didn’t keep much food around the house, since he didn’t actually _need_ to eat any of it, and if he did, he could hardly taste it, hence the four shots he’d just put into his coffee. Pete, on the other hand, is determined to still eat food like a normal person, so he keeps the cupboards mostly stocked, even though half the time he forgets to eat anything, and most of the stuff Frank’s just taken out is probably at least a couple of years out of date.

“I never said that.”

“I can _see_ it, though,” Frank says, smile growing wider, his point only being proven further by the faint blush that rose to Gerard’s cheeks, “You’re not good at subtlety.”

“Shut up,” Gerard says, trying to hide his face behind his mug.

“You know, I didn’t even know vampires could blush,” Frank says, changing the subject again, watching Gerard with a small smile that could mean just about anything.

Gerard shrugs, “It’s like with heat; it’s more obvious if I’ve fed recently, and if I haven’t in a while, then there’s nothing really.”

“When was the last time you…y’know?”

“Frank…”

“No, it’s not like, I’m not gonna try to get you to bite me, again – unless you want to, then, feel free – I’m just curious.”

“Last night.”

Frank frowns, “I was with you last night.”

“It was- I- after you fell asleep.”

“You dickhead,” Frank says, kicking Gerard gently on the hip and pouting at him, “I was _right_ _there_ , and I’d been asking all night!”

“Exactly, I didn’t want you to get back on it in the morning when I was thirsty and then end up caving.”

“I hate you,” Frank pouts.

“Yeah?” Gerard asks, not being able to help his smile.

“Yeah,” Frank replies, jumping down off the counter again to start mixing everything together in the bowl.

 

“How the hell do you do this…?” Gerard mumbles, after Frank had convinced him to try and make at least one pancake with the last of the batter, since he’d made the rest of them, holding the pan in front of him, looking over at Frank for help.

Frank laughs, moving to stand closer next to Gerard, “You just like, push it forward and up, and if you use enough force then it’ll flip round," he tells him, gesturing as he describes it.

“Uh…” Gerard looks down at the pan again, staring at the pancake in it, probably burning more with every second. How the hell was he supposed to flip that round without touching it? He'd watched Frank do it plenty of times just a few minutes ago, and he was just as shocked at how impossible it looked, even more so now that he's holding the pan himself. “I really can’t do this,” he tells Frank.

“Sure you can, just give it a go,” Frank says, attempting to encourage him, but Gerard still looks doubtful, frowning at the pancake, before sighing and just going for it, thinking if he’s gonna mess it up he might as well do it before the underside of the pancake is completely black. Gerard does what Frank told him to, pushing the pan forward and upwards, and the pancake _does_ jump out of the pan, but that’s as close to actually flipping the pancake as he gets. It barely makes it out of the pan before it falls back down again, mid-flip, ending up landing as a half-burned pile in the middle of the pan, bits and pieces of it already starting to stick together from the heat.

“Crap,” Gerard says, stepping aside for Frank, “can you save my pancake?”

Frank laughs, “I can attempt to,” he says, using the spatula to poke around at the mess that probably can’t even be called a pancake anymore, trying to separate the different pieces of it, ending up with a very strangely shaped pancake with too many holes and some lumps and folds where they shouldn’t be.

“Uh, that’s the best I can do,” Frank says, frowning at the pancake and poking it a bit more, then checking the underside before turning the gas off, adding the deformed pancake to the pile they’d been building up, all of the previous ones having been flipped perfectly by Frank, of course.

Gerard grabs two plates out of the cupboard, following Frank to the table, where he puts the plate with the pile of their pancakes on. They sit down across from each other, and Gerard picks off his mess of a pancake, frowning at it.

“That really was a spectacular flip,” Frank comments, laughing at the frown still on Gerard’s face.

“It was so _bad_ ,” Gerard says, cutting off a piece, watching Frank take his own perfectly round, with no chunks missing, pancake. “How did you get them all so perfect?”

Frank shrugs, “Practice, I guess. I can’t believe you’re almost three-hundred years old and this is the first time you’ve made a pancake.”

“There’s probably a ton of stuff I haven’t done, I hardly ever try new things. Except the internet, the internet is awesome.”

Frank laughs, “Definitely,” he agrees, watching Gerard as he pours an over excessive amount of syrup on top of his pancake. He raises one eyebrow at Gerard when he looks up again, glancing down at the soaked pancake.

“Can’t taste it otherwise,” Gerard explains.

“Is that another vampire thing?”

Gerard nods, “It sucks; I can hardly taste coffee unless I put a shitload in it.”

Frank laughs, reaching across the table to pick up Gerard’s coffee mug, taking a small sip from it, then instantly pulling a face and squinting his eyes shut, “Vampires are weird,” he tells Gerard, handing his coffee back.

Gerard laughs, “Tell me about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't get the chance to upload a new chapter yesterday because I'd been visiting family so I might upload another one later today.


	18. Chapter 18

“How often do you guys make pancakes? I swear to god there’s more batter on the floor than there must’ve been in the pancakes,” Gerard hears Pete yell from the kitchen, and can’t help the laugh that escapes his lips. Admittedly, they had been making _a lot_ of pancakes. Since that first time they’d made them, they’d kept making them each morning whenever one of them had stayed over at the others apartment. So, basically, any time they had sex, they’d end up making pancakes the next morning, which wasn’t a bad combination, in Gerard’s opinion.

“Are you ever gonna get fed up of pancakes?” Pete asks, quieter now that he’s standing in the doorway to the lounge, taking in the sight in front of him; Gerard sitting on the sofa, his feet resting on the coffee table in front of him with his legs crossed, and Frank lying sideways with his eyes shut, his head resting on Gerard’s lap, under the book Gerard was half-trying to read.

“That’s like asking if we’d get fed up of sex,” Gerard replies, hearing Frank giggle below him, having realised that it had pretty much became their post-sex ritual, like Gerard.

Pete rolls his eyes, “You guys are such a…couple,” he says, turning back and making to leave again.

“This could be you and Patrick,” Gerard calls out, before Pete could get out of earshot, smirking at the ‘fuck you’ he got in response.

Frank opens one eye, squinting up at Gerard, “Pete and Patrick?”

Gerard nods, trying not to feel too self-conscious about the angle Frank was looking at him from, because it _really_ couldn't get worse than that, especially when Gerard's looking down at him, too. “You have no idea.”

Frank smiles, closing his eyes again, “They’d make a good couple.”

“Yeah,” Gerard agrees, “If only they’d just suck it up and finally _get together_.”

“Mmm,” Frank hums in agreement, already half asleep again, and Gerard turns his attention back to his book, sighing happily.

 

Eventually, Frank drifts off back to sleep, and Gerard puts his book to the side for a moment, just admiring Frank. With his eyes shut, his eyelashes look even longer, resting gently against his cheeks, making him look so peaceful with that tiny smile on his face. His hair is still damp from washing it in the sink after making the mistake of running a hand through his hair while it was covered in the maple syrup he’d been drizzling all over his pancakes, and Gerard had had to help him wash it out, while calming Frank down that he _wouldn’t_ have to end up cutting most of his hair off, even though the big knot said otherwise, Gerard had managed to get it out eventually, thanks to far too much experience with having long hair and not maintaining it whatsoever.

His wet hair curls onto his forehead, water dripping slowly down one side of his face, some of it soaking into Gerard’s jeans. It makes him look so innocent, and even younger in his sleep, only emphasised by the small, barely loud enough to hear, snores he’s making every now and then, his eyelashes fluttering if he or Gerard make too much noise or shift too much, but never quite opening.

After watching him for a few more minutes, Gerard realises how creepy this probably is, and the last thing he needs is Pete to walk in on him watching Frank sleep, or Frank to wake up to him staring at him, so he picks up his book again, getting absorbed back into the story.

 

“Geraaard,” Frank says quietly when he wakes up again, dragging out his name.

“Yeah?” Gerard asks, barely turning his attention away from the book.

“Stop reading,” Frank tells him, shifting around into a more comfortable position, his head still on Gerard’s lap.

“Yeah,” Gerard repeats, still reading, hardly processing what Frank’s actually saying.

“Come onnn,” Frank says, poking Gerard in the stomach, making him jolt backwards, which would’ve worked better if he didn’t have the back of the sofa behind him and the weight of Frank’s head holding his legs down.

Gerard moves the book out of the way so he can see Frank’s face, pouting up at him, “You’re like a toddler that needs constant attention and supervision,” Gerard says, laughing at the scowl that crosses Frank’s face instead.

“Just because you’re an old man.”

“I look great for my age, though.” Gerard smirks, twisting and playing with some of Frank’s hair between his fingers.

“You know I can’t deny that,” Frank says, reaching up and taking the book out of Gerard’s hands, throwing it behind him in a failed attempt to put it back on the coffee table.

“Hey, I was reading that!” Gerard protests, trying to lean forward to pick it back up but getting stopped when Frank sticks his arm up, pushing Gerard back with a palm on his chest.

“What is it?” Gerard asks when he looks back down at Frank, noticing the focused and almost confused look on his face.

“I don’t know,” Frank says, brow furrowed in thought, “I feel…weird.”

“Did you eat too many pancakes?”

“No,” Frank says, shaking his head with a laugh, “It’s like…déjà vu.”

“Again?” Gerard asks, regretting it instantly when he realises Frank might’ve forgotten the last time, and now he’s just reminded him.

“Yeah…” Frank says, still looking deep in thought, “It’s weird, like, before I had gotten it maybe twice in my life at best, but lately I’ve been getting it so often, and I don’t know what it is.”

“What- what do you think it is?” Gerard asks, trying to hide his shock, though not succeeding in the slightest; it had been weird enough and surprising enough the first time Frank told him he’d gotten this déjà vu feeling, when they’d kissed, but now that he knew it wasn’t just a one off thing, it was even weirder. This _definitely_ hadn’t happened with Frank before.

“I don’t know…” Frank says, “Maybe it’s you,” he adds after thinking for a moment.

“What?” Gerard says, instantly tensing up because Frank doesn’t _know_ yet, Gerard hadn’t even considered telling him yet.

Frank laughs, “Relax,” he says, picking up one of Gerard’s hands and bringing it to rest on his own chest, drawing patterns on it, “I just mean, like, the first time it happened was that time I told you about when we kissed, and it’s always when we’re together, or I’m thinking about you, or something,” Frank explains, realising all of this as he says it, “What do you think it means?”

“I- uh, I don’t know,” Gerard stutters, because now would be a perfect time to just get it over with and _tell_ Frank, but he can’t manage to work up the courage to do it, not yet, anyway; he has no idea how Frank would react, and he doesn’t want to mess anything up just yet.

Frank shrugs, “Maybe it’s a vampire thing,” he suggests, “I’ve never dated – or met – one before you, so,” he shrugs again, “I don’t know. Has this ever happened before to people you’ve, like, dated?”

Gerard shakes his head, “Not that they’ve told me, anyway.”

Frank smiles slightly, looking pleased with himself, and Gerard can tell what he’s thinking; even though neither of them understand what this is, or know anything about it – that Gerard’s told Frank, at least – so this is something new for the both of them, not something Gerard can say he’s been through with someone else, because, no matter how many times Frank tells him otherwise, Gerard can see how jealous Frank is of anyone else he’s been with before, even if they are technically _Frank_ still, not that he knows that, though.

“So,” Frank says after some more minutes of silence, his eyes shut, and Gerard had thought he’d fallen asleep again, and was about to pick his book back up when Frank spoke again, “what happened with your brother?”

“Frank, I- it’s really complicated,” Gerard says, surprised at the sudden change of topic, even though he shouldn't be at this point after having spent so much time with Frank, who'd come up with the most out of place conversations out of nowhere.

Frank sighs, “What about your scar?” he asks instead, bringing his hand up again to run his fingers over it through Gerard’s shirt.

“That’s…part of the complicated stuff.”

Frank sighs again, “Okay,” he says, “Is the reason you won’t bite me part of the complicated stuff too?”

“Frank, that’s just me not wanting to hurt you.”

“You _won’t_ hurt me, though. If you really can’t stop, I can like, kick you off, or whatever.”

“Frank, I’m stronger than you. Especially when I’m feeding.”

“You’re not gonna kill me, or anything,” Frank says, “I trust you not to.”

Gerard sighs, “Yeah…” he agrees, not believing himself and not sounding even vaguely believable.

“You know I’m never gonna stop asking you this.”

“Yeah, and I’m never gonna agree to it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably could've made this longer but I'm a lazy piece of shit (also 2000 hits wow thank you everyone who's read this!!)


	19. Chapter 19

To be fair, Gerard _did_ believe that he wouldn’t actually agree to Frank’s constant pestering about biting him, but he sort of realised deep down that he’d have to give in eventually, and Frank must’ve too, otherwise he would’ve given up after the first time he had asked, back at the art museum.

But, when Frank had said that he wouldn’t stop asking Gerard about this, he wasn’t kidding, even though Gerard had hoped he'd forget about it eventually; any opportunity he could find, any vague mention of blood or vampires, he would remind Gerard about how he wants him to bite him, and give him plenty of reasons why he should. When they were kissing too, if Gerard dared go anywhere near his neck, or use his fangs in any way, like he had at the museum, Frank would bring it up again, or start teasing him, leaning his head back to make sure Gerard had the best access he could, pressing himself as close as he could, practically digging Gerard’s fangs into his skin by himself.

Once, at a show, Frank had sliced his fingers open, and hadn't left Gerard alone until the bleeding stopped, teasing him and only barely resisting smearing the blood over his lips. Gerard had managed to control himself; holding his breath and rolling his eyes at Frank whenever he would give him a determined look or get too close. Then, later on, Frank had been chewing on his lip – a nervous habit of his, Gerard had noticed – when he’d accidentally cut it open, making it bleed. Gerard didn’t realise what had happened, but he saw the idea forming in Frank’s head, and Frank was kissing him before Gerard even had time to process it. The second he had tasted the blood though, he’d pushed Frank away and left the room so he could take a few deep breaths to calm himself down and stop himself from just going back out and biting Frank then and there. It had been hard enough when Frank was shoving his bloody fingers in Gerard's face, let alone kissing him with a blood-filled mouth. After that, Frank had stopped for a bit, after he’d seen how stressed out it had made Gerard, and he knew that he’d pushed him too far, and eased off a bit for a while, at least, until one night.

 

It’s the middle of the night, or, more like early morning, when the two of them are in bed; Frank’s been trying to stay up later than he normally would and sleep in later so he could spend more time with Gerard, who had almost reverted back to his typical vampire sleeping routine, since Frank had always made sure they’d go out at night, and tried to get Gerard to sleep in the day more, because he could see how much more tired he would be when he slept at night instead. Gerard had been just about to go to sleep, more out of habit than actual drowsiness, when Frank started kissing him, coaxing him back into full consciousness until Gerard ended up on top of him, completely awake now.

Gerard moves down, kissing along Frank’s jaw, then lower, down to his neck. Frank tilts his head back, giving Gerard better access, knowing that he’s teasing him again, urging him to go just that bit further.

Gerard sits back suddenly, breaking all contact with Frank except the heavy weight of him straddling his hips.

“Frank…” Gerard starts, and Frank expects another round of ‘I don’t trust myself enough’, or Gerard to just leave again, like last time, and what he really doesn’t expect is for Gerard to continue with, “If we’re really gonna do this, we have to be careful. Really careful.” Gerard had started thinking about this seriously – before whenever Frank asked, he’d just pushed it off, not wanting to think about it, since for so long he’d considered it such a dangerous thing to do with someone he wanted to stay alive – after Frank had kissed him with his bloody lip. Gerard liked to think that it just triggered him to consider it, and he was able to reason with himself that it _could_ be safe, if they were careful, but he knew that it was mostly because now that he’d tasted Frank’s blood, no matter how little it was he actually got to taste before he had pulled away, he couldn’t stop the craving; it had been bad enough just seeing Frank’s blood in his cheeks when he was hot or he blushed, and hearing it pumping through his veins when he was close enough.

Frank nods eagerly, waiting for Gerard to continue.

“If it’s gets too much, if you feel faint or dizzy or it hurts too much or _anything_ , then tell me, okay?”

Frank nods again. “Do you want, like, a safeword or something?” Gerard asks.

“No, I’ll just tell you to stop if I need you to.”

“Okay, don’t be afraid to shove me off if I, like, I dunno.”

“Gerard,” Frank says soothingly, noticing the concern in his face, his eyebrows drawn together and his forehead creased, “it’s fine, you won’t hurt me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but still, if-” Gerard says, about to start another ramble when Frank pulls him down by the back of his neck, bringing their mouths together in a clumsy kiss, quickly becoming desperate and needy.

“I trust you,” Frank says when he pulls away, staring into Gerard’s eyes intently, trying to give him the courage to actually trust _himself_.

Gerard nods, eyes dropping down, before slowly continuing his kissing down Frank’s throat, occasionally breaking contact to look up at Frank and make sure he still wants this, then when he sees that Frank's still just as excited about this, he starts becoming more confident quickly, momentarily forgetting his concerns about hurting Frank, and grinding down against him, relishing in the feeling of Frank’s throat vibrating from the moan that escapes his lips, and Gerard can feel and hear Frank’s blood pumping just that much faster through his veins.

Frank arches his back off the bed slightly when Gerard presses his fangs gently against the skin of his neck, not yet piercing it, wanting to get closer to Gerard.

“Come on, fucker,” Frank mumbles, already getting impatient, and Gerard laughs against his neck at that hint of desperation in his voice, and then there’s the sudden sharp pain of fangs slowly piercing the skin of his neck, and Frank gasps because that _hurts_ , but then, after just a moment of it, it starts to fade, replaced by a strange numb feeling, and the pain is still there, underneath it all, but it’s not hurting so much anymore, instead just feeling an indescribable kind of _good_ that Frank’s never really experienced before.

Gerard had almost forgotten what it was like to drink from someone; it’s been so long since he had the chance, and, especially with the option of buying blood to satisfy all his vampire needs, he didn’t really feel the need to. But now, he regrets ever stopping. The sweet, so much so that it’s almost sickly, taste fills his mouth, the heat of it instantly flowing through him. He’d also forgotten how much _better_ fresh blood is than the refrigerated crap they sell in the shops. It would still give him the warmth, flush, and satisfaction of feeding, but it was _nothing_ compared to this. It had been so long since he’d actually bitten someone, though, that he couldn’t remember what it was like. Now, though, he can feel Frank’s heat flowing through him, the blood making him feel more awake already; quenching that indescribable thirst in the way that a packet just can’t, and he can already feel his senses heightening, the smell of Frank strong beneath him, the rapid thud of his heart pumping blood round his body, and into Gerard’s mouth, his gasping breath hitting the top of Gerard’s head.

Gerard unwilling pulls away sooner than he’d like, not wanting to accidentally take too much, not even really knowing how much _was_ too much, or lose control once he's taken enough, licking over the wounds quickly to stop the bleeding, then pulling back to check that Frank’s still okay.

“Oh my god,” Frank says, pulling Gerard forward into another kiss, not caring about the blood still on his lips, then letting him flop sideways onto the bed next to him. Even though before Gerard had made the sudden decision to bite Frank they'd been about to have sex, and neither of them had reached a climax, they're still both fine; the blood and drinking is enough, and Gerard knows that Frank will be a bit out of it for a while from the venom, and weak from the blood loss.

“How do you feel?” Gerard asks, turning his head to look at Frank, still not being able to help worrying about him despite the smile plastered across his face.

“Amazing,” Frank says, “god forbid any scientists find out about vampire’s venom because you guys would be fucked and they’d be using you all to make some new drug.”

Gerard laughs, watching as Frank slowly brings his hand up to trace over the marks Gerard had left.

“How do _you_ feel?” he asks, dropping his hand to turn on his side and look at Gerard.

“Like a vampire.”

“Isn’t that, like, a permanent state of mind for you?” Frank asks, laughing.

“Well, like, I forgot how _different_ fresh blood is. All my senses are so much stronger, and, like- everything else, too. I can hear your heart beating,” Gerard says, resting one hand on Frank’s chest, feeling the beats beneath his fingers. "I can freaking  _smell_ it," Gerard says, excited about these forgotten things despite himself, pressing his face back into Frank's neck, smiling against the skin.

Frank laughs again, “You know, my parents would kill me if they knew I’d done this.”

“Why?”

“Well, when I was a kid they knew that I was, like, really into horror movies and zombies and vampires and all that shit, so when that whole…thing happened with the vampires, and everyone on the East Coast realised there’s been a rapidly growing vampire population sitting under our noses, they both freaked out worrying about me, that I’d go and do something stupid like walk into the middle of a gang of vampires and try to make friends.”

Gerard laughs at the image that paints in his head, but doesn’t say anything, letting Frank continue.

“Even when I moved out, they were still super protective of me. ‘Don’t stay out too late at night’, ‘Don’t walk through the vampire neighbourhoods’, ‘Don’t go near the back of the supermarket at night’. When I’d just moved into my new place, too, my mother had to come and check it out and make sure there weren’t any vampires too close nearby. She came right after you’d stayed over too, she was so suspicious, like she somehow knew I’d just had a vampire stay the night. If she knew I let you bite me, I would be so fucking screwed.”

“So I guess meeting your parents really isn’t an option?”

“Well, we could give it a go, at some point, I guess. I’d have to introduce the idea to them slowly, not just show up at one of their doorsteps like ‘Hey, this is my vampire boyfriend’. I’m sure if they actually gave you a chance and talked to you, they’d finally realise that not all vampires are murderous psychopaths that kill people for sport on the weekends.”

"I would feel offended, but vampires really haven't made a good name for themselves, myself included."

Frank raises one eyebrow, but doesn't bother asking Gerard what he means, "Don't worry, my parents just overreact too much. If they saw a bat they'd start worrying about me."

Gerard laughs, "Yeah, we definitely don't turn into bats."

"Mmhm," Frank says, shifting closer and dropping his head onto Gerard's chest, running his fingers along Gerard's stomach and trying not to smirk at how ticklish Gerard is when he flinches away, "sure."


	20. Chapter 20

"Are you okay?" Gerard asks Frank later that morning, when they've both woken up again and are now sitting at the kitchen table, Frank having missed half of what Gerard had been saying, staring off somewhere behind his shoulder.

"Huh?" Frank asks, turning his attention back to Gerard, looking surprised that he's even talking.

"You were a bit...zoned out," Gerard tells him.

"I was? Oh, sorry, I'm just...thinking about something."

"Is this about last night?"

"No," Frank says suddenly, eyes widening in worry, "no, you didn't do anything wrong, and that was amazing, and you can  _definitely_ do it again. I was just...trying to remember this thing, but it doesn't- it's not important."

"What was it?" Gerard urges, noticing that the way Frank's talking about it  _definitely_ doesn't make it seem unimportant.

Frank shakes his head, shrugging Gerard's question off, "You will do it again, right?"

"Frank, if- I don't know, maybe," Gerard says; beforehand, he'd been hoping that if he bit Frank, then he would stop asking for it, and hopefully never ask for it again, but, now that he's _actually_ bitten him and remembers what it's like to bite someone, to drink _fresh_ blood, he can hardly say no to doing it again. Going back to drinking refrigerated blood after drinking from Frank would be harder than Gerard wants to think about, even though he knows he won't be able to stop drinking it completely; Frank would end up too weak and hardly able to function most of the time if he took as much of his blood as he need as often as he needed. _  
_

Frank's mouth slowly creeps up into a small smile, momentarily forgetting about what had been distracting him before, "You want to, it's even more obvious than it was before."

Gerard rolls his eyes, not being able to smile himself at the now even bigger smile spread across Frank's face, "I won't be able to all the time, not as often as I need to feed."

"Why not?" Frank asks, his face dropping slightly.

"It'd be too much for you, but, I guess, doing it from time to time wouldn't hurt? It would've been the hardest to control myself the first time, and I was okay, really. It'll only get easier."

"It would do the opposite of hurting and you know it."

"Not for you, though."

Frank shakes his head at him, letting out a short laugh, "It  _hurts_ , but you know how good that pain is." _  
_

"Yeah, whatever," Gerard says, trying and failing to ignore the smile returning to Frank's face.

"So," Frank says, taking a sip of the coffee they'd made a couple of minutes ago, and Gerard already knows he's going to come up with something completely different to talk about, pretty much expected it from Frank whenever there was a break in conversation, "there was this thing I wanted to do."

"Yeah?"

"And I kind of wanted you to come, and I know you might not want to but it'd be awesome if you did."

"What is it?"

"I was gonna get this tattoo that-" Frank starts, and Gerard instantly pulls a face, making Frank laugh.

"Needles," he says, as some kind of explanation, and Frank nods, having already expected his reaction.

"I know but, like, you don't have to go  _anywhere_ near the needle, and you don't even have to watch, you could, like, face the other way or something."

"It's still  _horrible,_ though. Do I _have_ to come?"

"Yes, come on, I want you to."

Gerard frowns for a bit longer, thinking, then finally gives up with a sigh. "If I throw up on you, it's your fault."

"Deal," Frank laughs.

 

The drive to the tattoo parlour isn't far; before Frank moved into the city he made sure he knew a decent artist nearby so he could inevitably add to his already numerous amount of tattoos. They go inside, after too much coaxing on Frank's part just to get Gerard out of the car and to follow him into the building, just because he knows that needles are in there. He gets him inside eventually, and Gerard waits silently next to Frank as he talks with the guy behind the counter, showing him some design that Gerard probably could've tried harder to see, but was too busy worrying about the fact that a bunch of needles were about to be stuck in Frank, and then the guy shows them round to the chair, where Frank takes his jacket off and sits down.

"Hey," Frank says, making Gerard jump when he reaches out and takes Gerard's hand for a second to get his attention, "relax, it's fine," he tries to reassure him, and Gerard just nods along, hardly listening. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just...needles," Gerard tells him, trying to hide how tempted he is to run away when the artist actually takes out the needle.

"If you really can't do this you can wait outside, okay? I'm not gonna make you stay if you're really uncomfortable."

Gerard shakes his head, even though he's more than willing to accept Frank's offer and disappear out to the car as quick as he can, "I'll be fine; you wanted me to stay," he says, thanking one of the guys that worked there when he pulls up a stool for Gerard to sit on next to Frank.

"Are you sure?"

Gerard nods, trying to calm himself down and mostly succeeding when he watches the artist wiping down Frank's forearm, then copying the design onto his skin. Gerard thinks he's doing pretty well, considering, up until when the needle is back in the artist's hands, filling it with ink just before the buzzing fills the room.

Gerard grabs Frank's free hand again - the one that's not connected to the arm being tattooed - and tries to refrain from looking away completely or throwing up, feeling himself being ever so slightly reassured when Frank squeezes his hand back.

"You don't have to watch, Gee," Frank says, squeezing Gerard's hand again, smiling at him when he turns to face Frank, face even paler than usual.

"Yeah..." Gerard says, glancing back at the artist working then turning back to Frank quickly, "I'm just...gonna...not..." Gerard stutters, turning himself completely so he's facing Frank and only Frank, the only reminder of the needles behind him being the constant buzzing. 

"You sure you're fine?" Frank asks, brow creasing in worry.

"Yeah," Gerard says with a slight, almost forced, laugh, "I should be asking you that."

Frank laughs back, "I'm used to it by now," he says, watching the work for a couple of seconds before turning his attention back to Gerard, so that Gerard wouldn't be tempted to look too.

 

"Can I see it?" Gerard asks when it's finally done, just over an hour later, the tattoo artist moving away to clean the equipment.

"Yeah," Frank says, pulling the wrap to the side and holding his arm out for Gerard to see.

"What- Is that-" Gerard starts, squinting with a frown and leaning a bit closer, "a vampire bat, really?"

Frank nods, a proud smile plastered across his face, covering the tattoo back up when Gerard leans back again.

"Isn't it supposed to be bad luck for a relationship if you get a tattoo?"

Frank shrugs, "That's just a bunch of bullshit anyway, and it's not like I tattooed your fucking name across my chest or anything, it's just...marking the occasion."

Gerard has to refrain from rolling his eyes, "We don't even turn into bats anyway, we worked that out last night."

Frank shrugs again, "It's still got the fangs, though," he reminds Gerard, his hand subconsciously going up to touch the marks on his neck, already faded and hardly visible, even under the harsh light.

"You so planned this."

"I might've," Frank says, smirking, "I had tons of time to think about it, anyway, cause you took for fucking ever to actually let yourself bite me, and I didn't know whether or not it'd leave a scar when you actually did it, so I decided this would be the second-best way to remember it. Not that it's something that'll be easy to forget any time soon, but, you know."

"You  _want_ it to scar?"

"Well, I...I dunno, maybe. It's not like I want tons of marks all over my neck, but one pair wouldn't hurt."

"Wouldn't your parents...I don't know, freak out or something?"

"Maybe, who cares; they wouldn't try and, like, kill you or anything. At least, I hope they wouldn't."

"I- great, that's reassuring."

"So, does it actually scar?" Frank asks, finally standing up and pulling on his jacket, careful to roll the sleeves up past his new tattoo.

"No, I mean, I don't think so. I think the venom, like, stops it or whatever, cause it stops the bleeding and helps it heal faster. So, I guess if I didn't try to seal the wound, then it might scar? I guess we could try it if you really want to, but definitely, like, think about it first. I mean, it's permanent."

"Relax, I literally just got a tattoo, two little scars is nothing."

"Oh, yeah."


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while just because I had writer's block so I've combined this chapter & the next so it's a bit longer.

“Frank?” Gerard asks, head filling with worry when he notices how pale Frank is. It had taken Frank almost another week to convince Gerard that it’s fine to bite him again, and even more times after that, and that it would be safe. He’d bitten him twice since, and Frank had gotten two more bat tattoos on his arm after each one.

“Another one? Seriously?” Gerard had asked as Frank came through the door to Gerard’s apartment, instantly noticing the plastic wrap on his arm.

Frank nodded, looking pleased with himself, “Marking the occasion,” he said; the same excuse he’d had after the first and second tattoo. He’d gotten the second one, this time without Gerard, the morning after he’d bitten him a second time, and then again after Gerard had bitten him the night before.

“It’s not really an ‘occasion’ if you want it to be a regular thing,” Gerard told him, shuffling to the side on the sofa to make room for Frank, who kicked off his shoes and then sits down in the space Gerard made.

Frank shrugged, letting Gerard take his arm and look over the new tattoo.

“If you want me to bite you as often as you say, you’re gonna run out of space,” Gerard said, letting go of Frank’s arm again.

“Maybe three’s enough,” Frank agreed, “otherwise you’re gonna threaten to stop, aren’t you?”

Gerard laughs, turning his face into Frank’s neck, “Probably,” he mumbled, kissing the skin lightly. Frank tilted his head back, pressing forward into Gerard, letting him know exactly what he wants him to do. Again.

“Not-” Gerard said, pulling away, frowning at Frank slightly, “not now, we just…last night.”

“I’ll be fine,” Frank said, rolling his eyes at how concerned Gerard always looks whenever things like this come up.

“It’s not something I wanna risk, though.”

"It's  _fine_. I don't feel as weak as I did the first time, I'm used to it now."

"I've bitten you three times, that's nowhere near enough for you to get used to it."

Frank shrugged again, "You can still bite me, like, now," he says, and Gerard shakes his head again.

 

“I fucking hate you, you know that?” Gerard said when the two of them are in Gerard’s bed, kissing heatedly, Gerard having finally given in to Frank. “You always manage to convince me to do fucking anything.”

“Mmhm,” Frank hummed, exposing his neck further to Gerard, reminding him of the matter at hand.

 

“Frank,” Gerard repeats, shaking his arm gently, “Frank, are you okay?”

“Mmm, sleepy,” he replies, his eyelids fluttering shut, a small smile still on his lips.

“No, Frank, come on, let’s get you cleaned up first at least, okay? Then you can sleep,” Gerard lies, just wanting to keep Frank awake until he’s sure he’s okay.

“’m kay,” Frank mumbles, waiting for Gerard to climb off the bed, letting him pull him up to stand next to him. “Fuck,” Frank whispers, swaying slightly, balancing himself on Gerard and resting his forehead against his shoulder, “feel dizzy, Gee.”

“Crap,” Gerard whispers under his breath, trying to support Frank as he leads him to the bathroom, stopping quickly to grab some of his clothes out of his chest of drawers. When they get to the bathroom, Gerard sits Frank down on the tiled floor, his back resting against the edge of the bath. Gerard goes to the sink, finding an old towel and wetting it under the sink, making sure the water’s warm enough before going back to Frank, slowly and gently wiping away the mess over Frank’s skin, wishing he could somehow get the blood smeared across Frank’s neck and chest back in his body, go back in time and stop himself from drinking from Frank again. They didn’t normally make this much mess, and it just made Gerard feel even worse about it, seeing the blood all over him.

 

“Wait,” Frank had said, just before Gerard was about to close the wounds, grabbing his shoulder to push him away slightly, just enough so he can look at him. “Can you-” Frank started, looking down, some colour rising to his cheeks, “can you leave it?”

“And let it scar?”

Frank nodded, still avoiding Gerard’s eyes, chewing on his lip nervously.

“If that’s what you want,” Gerard said with a smirk, ducking his head back down to kiss over the wound instead, feeling the blood welling up under his lips, and he parted his lips slightly to bring it into his mouth, sucking gently at the wound again.

“Ger-” Frank gasped, cutting off when Gerard trails his lips downwards, feeling the wetness of the blood still on his lips smearing down his chest, and then the sudden, sharp pain of Gerard sinking his teeth in again, just below his ribs.

 

“’m cold,” Frank says when Gerard’s just finished off, wrapping his arms around his bare chest, in an attempt to warm himself up.

“I think I took too much blood,” Gerard explains, helping Frank back up and into a pair of his sweatpants, having made sure they were clean and thick enough to keep Frank warm, then pulling a t-shirt over Frank’s head, before pulling his own clothes on. “Come on,” he says, taking Frank’s hand and supporting him again as he leads him towards the living room, but they only make it halfway there when Frank stumbles, catching himself again on Gerard’s arm.

“I can’t, Gee,” he says, still clinging onto Gerard’s arm tightly, “feel really…lightheaded.”

“I know,” Gerard says, “let me just get you something to drink, okay?” he asks, leaving Frank leaning against the wall once he’s agreed, going into the kitchen and pouring out a glass of water, leaving it in the living room so that he’d have two hands to help Frank, then going back and finding Frank sitting against the same wall.

“Hey, come on,” Gerard says gently, reaching out a hand for him.

Frank shakes his head, “Can’t I just sleep?” he asks, squinting up at Gerard.

Gerard shakes his head in return, “Come on, we can watch a movie,” he suggests, sighing when Frank still doesn’t move, bending down next to him and sliding one hand behind Frank’s back and another behind his knees, picking him up slowly, trying not to lose his balance.

“You’re really warm,” Frank mumbles, nuzzling his head into Gerard’s chest with a smile.

“Yeah,” Gerard replies quietly, overcome with the guilt of knowing that Frank’s the only reason he’s this warm, even before when he’d bitten Frank, he’d make sure never to take too much, so even though he’d be warmer than normal, he’d never be this warm, and that it’s his fault that Frank’s colder than him, for once.

When Gerard tries to set Frank down on the sofa, he refuses to let go, keeping his arms wrapped around Gerard’s neck when he tries to stand back up again. “Stay here,” he tells Gerard, weakly trying to pull him back down.

“Don’t you want me to put a movie on?” Gerard asks, letting himself be pulled back down despite himself.

Frank shakes his head, shifting himself closer to Gerard, leeching off his new found heat, the heat that should be _Frank’s_.

“You should drink something,” Gerard tells him, reaching for the water he’d set down earlier, holding it out for Frank to take.

“’m not thirsty,” Frank says, eyes shut, leaning against Gerard’s shoulder.

“Come on,” Gerard says, nudging him slightly, “you need to drink.”

Frank sighs, pushing himself into an upright position, taking the glass from Gerard a drinking a couple of mouthfuls before setting it back down, leaning against Gerard again. “Sleep now?” he mumbles, eyes closing again.

“Okay,” Gerard says, giving in, wrapping one arm around Frank in the hopes of returning some of his heat.

 

They stay like that for a while; Frank fell asleep quickly, and, as much as Gerard wanted to sleep too, to just forget about what had happened and hopefully wake up to an at least slightly recovered Frank, he couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried. So, after checking that Frank’s completely out, he picks him up again, slowly to make sure he doesn’t disturb him too much, then carries him into the bedroom, laying him down gently on the bed, covering him in the blankets. For a moment Gerard’s tempted to lie down with him, but he decides it’ll just make him feel guiltier and think too much, so he goes back into the living room, intending to watch a movie, but ending up just sitting on the sofa, thinking everything through over and over until the guilt of hurting Frank like this is practically consuming him.

 

“Hey,” Pete says, coming out of the kitchen with a coffee in his hands, having only just woken up, “what’s up?” he asks, noticing the frown on Gerard’s face, and the way he’s pulled his knees up to his chest, making himself as small as he can.

“I hurt Frank,” Gerard mumbles, the words sounding even worse out in the open.

“What?”

“I bit him again last night, and…I- I took too much, he’s lost too much blood, he’s so pale and cold and he could barely stand up without me helping him.”

“Where is he now?”

“Asleep in my bed.”

“Listen, Gerard, I’m sure he’s fine. Something like this was bound to happen, I mean, it’s inevitable when you’ve just started drinking from people _without_ killing them. It’s not in our nature to let people we drink from live.”

“Has it happened to you before?”

Pete shakes his head, “Feeding's just become something sexual for me now, I couldn't just do it with a friend or whatever, and I haven’t dated anyone since I was turned and I haven’t even had much sex," he admits.

“Its cause of Patrick, isn’t it?” Gerard asks, smiling slightly, and feeling ever so slightly better.

“No, shut up,” Pete says, scowling at Gerard. “You should stay with Frank,” he says,changing the topic quickly, like he always managed too when Gerard brought up Patrick, “and make sure he’s okay.”

Gerard shakes his head, “I can’t, he- what if he wakes up and doesn’t want to see me? What if he hates me because I’ve done this?”

“He’s not gonna hate you, Gerard,” Pete reassures him.

Gerard still looks doubtful, “I’ll take him some more water,” he says, getting up and going to the kitchen.

 

When Gerard goes back into his room with the water, Frank’s already starting to wake up just from hearing him coming through the door. “Frank? I’ve got you some more water, okay?” Gerard says, going round to the side of his bed and kneeling down on the floor, so he’s face to face with Frank, who barely even has his eyes open.

“Mmhm,” Frank says, giving Gerard a small smile and closing his eyes again.

“Frank, come on,” Gerard says, shaking his arm gently.

“On the-” Frank says, flapping his hand towards the bedside table, “I’ll…later.”

Gerard sighs, “Okay,” he agrees, setting the glass down carefully and standing back up, moving to go back out to the living room again.

“Mmm, Gee,” Frank mumbles, and Gerard stops, turning back to face him, “where’re you goin’?” he asks, squinting up at Gerard.

“I was gonna…” Gerard says, pointing behind him out the door, “back to the living room.”

“Stay here,” Frank says, weakly patting the bed next to him.

“Frank, I-”

“Please,” Frank says, barely above a whisper, another small smile crossing his face when Gerard gives in with another sigh, moving round to the empty side of the bed, climbing in next to Frank. The second Gerard’s lying down, Frank shifts closer, reaching out grabbing hands towards him, curling up against his side, his head resting on his chest and shoulder.

“Mmm,” Frank hums, hands gripping Gerard’s shirt, his knees tucked up against Gerard’s hip, letting out a small yawn, followed by a contented smile, “’like you,” he mumbles into Gerard’s chest, “night,” he adds, his head growing heavy quickly as he falls back to sleep.

 

Gerard feels like he must’ve slept for days, and when slowly crawls out of bed again, Frank starts to wake up too, blinking up at Gerard.

“God, I feel like shit,” Frank complains, stretching out with a wince.

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry Frank, I’m so, so sorry.”

“What do you mean?” Frank asks, frowning.

“I…before, I took too much blood. You could hardly walk, I- I didn’t know what to do, you were hardly talking and kept telling me you were really dizzy. I was so scared; you were so pale and so _cold_.”

“Oh, Gerard,” Frank says sadly, sitting up and reaching out a hand to touch his face. “I’m fine, now, okay?”

Gerard shakes his head, “I hurt you.”

“I’m okay, you didn’t hurt me.”

“You just said-”

“I know, but you didn’t do anything deliberately. I know you wouldn’t have.”

“I still could’ve _killed_ you, Frank.”

“No, this wasn’t your fault, you’d bitten me the night before and you knew you shouldn’t have done it again so soon and you wouldn’t have if I hadn’t convinced you.”

Gerard shakes his head again, frowning, “I took more blood than I normally do, I…I was going to stop when I was about to heal it, but then I was an idiot and took _more_ blood and then bit you _again_.”

“Gerard, it doesn’t matter, I’m fine now, stop looking so worried.”

“I shouldn’t have bitten you in the first place,” Gerard says, frown not moving from his face, “I know you wanted to but…it’s not _safe_.”

“Gee,” Frank says, making his voice clear and forceful, enough so as to get Gerard’s complete attention, noticing the difference from the soft, half-asleep voice Frank had been talking with before, “I’m fine, trust me,” he says, voice softer again.

Gerard keeps frowning, biting his lip as he looks Frank up and down, not trusting that he’s _actually_ okay, and not just lying to make him feel better. He reaches one hand up, fingers brushing lightly over the two marks there, still a dark red where they’d normally have faded already.

Frank sighs, reaching up and grabbing Gerard’s hand, making him feel even guiltier from how much colder it is than normal, especially compared to his warmth. “I’m fine,” he repeats, “stop feeling guilty.”

“I could’ve hurt you,” Gerard says, “I could’ve _killed_ you.”

“You didn’t, though,” Frank says, “I’m still _fine_.”

Gerard still looks unsure, reaching out a hand to gently brush Frank’s arm, “Are you sure?”

“Gerard, please stop looking at me like and treating me like I’m this…this breakable thing, I’m fine, I can handle it, okay?”

“I just can’t stand the thought of hurting you,” Gerard says, feeling unnecessary and unwanted tears filling his eyes, luckily not yet spilling.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Frank says, voice softening instantly, leaning forward and pulling Gerard into a hug.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Gerard mumbles into his shoulder, blinking away the tears, “If I was the one that-”

“You won’t be. You wouldn’t hurt me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to have internet next week because I'm going camping so I won't be able to update for that time, though I might be able to get some if I'm out/at places with free wifi, so when I can I'll upload a chapter from my phone (or more, to make up for the waiting). I won't be able to reply to any comments either (unless I find wifi) but please please keep leaving them it always makes my day when I see someone's left a comment.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of you were looking forward to this but I don't know if you'll like it so much

"Do you wanna watch a movie now?" Gerard asks, nudging Frank next to him, now that he's actually able to stay awake for more than fifteen minutes.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. No, wait," Frank says, pausing and frowning, "I have a show tonight, I need to-"

"No, no," Gerard says, stopping Frank when he starts trying to stand up, "no way, you still haven't recovered."

"'m fine," Frank mumbles, pushing against Gerard's grip, but he doesn't let up, not trusting Frank's judgement since he had told him that morning that he was perfectly fine, and then almost cracked his head open on Gerard's bedside table.

"No you're not," Gerard insists, picking Frank's phone up off of the coffee table, "I can call James and tell him you can't come."

"I can't miss it," Frank says, looking at Gerard with pleading eyes, but Gerard just shakes his head at him, because if he couldn't go back and fix what he'd done, then he was sure as hell going to make sure Frank was more than okay before he did anything stupid like throw himself around on a stage.

Gerard finds James' number quickly, and Frank lets out a defeated sigh when the phone starts ringing, giving up on trying to knock his phone out of Gerard's hands.

Gerard just tells him that Frank's really sorry that he has to miss it, and didn't really want to miss it in the slightest - which Frank scoffs at quietly next to him - but he's gotten sick, which isn't really that much of a lie, or that hard to believe thanks to Frank's ability to get sick every other week at the most inconvenient times possible. James tells him that it's completely fine, and that he's just glad that Gerard actually has the ability to stop Frank from playing shows when he gets too sick, because normally he'd either have to be locked in a room somewhere to stop him or loaded up with drugs before and after so he doesn't pass out on stage.

"So, movie?" Gerard asks when he's put Frank's phone back, trying not to laugh at the adorably pissed off face that Frank's trying to maintain.

Frank sighs again, his face softening after a few more seconds of scowling, "What do you have?"

"A lot. You can- they're, like, all on that shelf," Gerard says, pointing across to the shelf next to the TV.

"'Kay," Frank says, pushing himself up - swaying a bit before Gerard catches him and stabilises him - then going over to the shelf and starting to look through the DVDs there.

 

“Gerard?" Frank asks after a couple of minutes of silence, except for the shuffling of DVDs on the shelf, which has since stopped, “What is this?”

“Hmm?” Gerard asks, not moving his eyes from where he’d been staring at the ceiling. “Probably a movie. I dunno, what’s it called?” he asks, feeling the underlying worry that Pete had left porn or something equally stupid lying out on the shelf to be found.

“No, I- this is-” Frank stutters, still staring intently at whatever he’s holding in his hands. “Can you come here?”

“Sure,” Gerard says with a sigh, pushing himself up off of the sofa and moving up behind Frank, expecting to see him staring at the cover of some obscure, old DVD, but he freezes when he instead sees Frank holding open the worn pages of Gerard’s sketchbook, the one he’d always had, since before he can remember. The one full of all his sketches of Frank.

“Frank-” he starts, his mind frantically trying to come up with some kind of excuse, anything.

“This is me,” Frank says before he can come up with anything, or even say any of the nonsense that was about to start spilling out of his mouth, looking down at the drawing filling the page; a quick sketch Gerard had done of Frank in the early morning light, back in WWII, capturing the shadows cast across his face by the bulky helmet and caked-on mud. “But it’s not…me.”

Frank’s right; it’s not him. It’s clearly not him. They look similar, mostly like brothers, but you can see the differences, the slight changes in the shape of some of his features, not enough for him to become unrecognisable, but enough to notice the difference.

“I can explain,” Gerard tells him, his mind still trying to come up with some kind of explanation that actually makes sense, and won’t freak Frank out. He hadn’t been planning to tell Frank about the reincarnation yet, he hadn’t even thought about the possibility of telling him, yet, except when Pete had told him to, before they’d even gone on their first date. Except, now he didn’t really have a choice. He couldn’t come up with any decent excuse, and if he lied now anyway, then Frank would know that he had in the future, when he eventually told him the actual truth. He couldn’t keep this big a secret from him again, especially when all these weird things had been happening with this Frank; memories resurfacing, déjà vu, things that had never happened before with Frank.

“They’re all me,” Frank says, not registering, or choosing not to listen, to what Gerard had said, continuing to flip through the pages, until he reaches the most recent drawing, only half finished, of Frank, this Frank, asleep in Gerard's bed, blissed out and exhausted, his mouth curled up into a slight smile, “but this is _me_.”

“Yeah, that was-” Gerard starts.

“What is this?” Frank asks again, finally acknowledging and turning to face Gerard, confusion and hurt painted across his face. “Is this- is this, like, what, your record of past lovers or some shit?” he asks, slight anger slipping into his voice, barely showing through the hurt, and he flips back to the beginning of the book.

“I-” Gerard starts again, reaching out on hand to touch Frank, to comfort him.

“Don’t,” Frank says, pushing away Gerard’s hand, “don’t try and tell me that this is me, that you made it up, or whatever. There’s photos in here,” Frank says, holding up the book with shaking hands. “Is this why you were so interested in me?” Frank questions, jabbing a finger at the very first drawing, of Frank, not long after they’d first gotten together, all those hundreds of years ago. “Because I just happen to look like some guy you were banging back in the 18th century?”

“No, Frank, it’s not what-”

“Not what I think? Then what is this? I look exactly like him!” Frank says, his voice rising in volume and pitch ever so slightly. “There’s all those others too, they look like me, like, unidentical twins or something, but this guy is exactly like me.”

“What?” Gerard says, the weight of Frank’s words affecting him more than the anger. “He- what?” he repeats, taking the sketchbook from Frank’s still shaking hands and staring at the drawing; he vaguely remembers doing it, but it gets harder every day to remember the small details of their first relationship, it had been so long ago. He doesn’t even remember exactly what Frank looked like when they first met; he can still remember how he roughly looked, after meeting Frank again so many times with a similar face, but not exactly. Which is why he didn’t freak out as much as he could’ve when he saw this Frank for the first time. Now that he’s seen his drawings again, though, which he hasn’t looked back on in a long time, he can see vague memories of Frank, how he first looked, his distinguishable features. And now that he can remember Frank’s first face, he can see the resemblance between him and this Frank, more than just the usual similarities. There’s hardly any difference, besides their hair, being cut differently, they could easily be mistaken for the same person, which, technically, they are. This is the first time Frank has ever looked exactly like he had when they first met; exactly like the Frank he’d first fallen in love with.

“If you’re-” Frank says, bringing Gerard back out of his thoughts, and reminding him of the delicate situation at hand, which he needs to fix, before Frank decides that Gerard isn’t worth all this trouble, “if you’re trying to, like, replace him or something, with me, it’s not going to work. I get it, you’re immortal. I could handle that, I knew you’d have been with other people before, but… He’s dead, whoever this guy was, he died, and I’m not him, and I can’t just…just…” Frank says, trailing off, drawing in shaky breaths.

“No, Frank, no, it’s not- that’s not what this is,” Gerard tries to reassure him, barely able to find the words for that, let alone to actually explain this to Frank, thanks to this now all-consuming fear of losing Frank, the normally ever-present one that he could sometimes forget about, but would always be there just because of the sheer number of times he'd lost Frank and had to watch him die. But now, now that the possibility of losing Frank is right there, and that it could be Gerard's fault that Frank might _choose_ to leave, it's even worse. He puts down the sketchbook, trying to take Frank’s hands in his own, then trying to ignore the ache in his chest when Frank pulls away, like he’s been burned by Gerard’s touch.

“Don’t _touch_ me,” Frank says, trying to keep an air of strength around him despite the tears building in his eyes, “I thought- I thought you were- I thought this was something. I don’t know, I thought this could be it, I guess. But now it just turns out I’m just some crappy replacement.”

“No, Frank, please, please, let me explain, this isn’t-”

“No, no, you don’t get a fucking chance to fucking…convince your way out of this, I wouldn’t be able to…I can’t…” Frank says, interrupting Gerard, barely able to finish his sentences, shaking his head at each pause, his fists clenched at his sides, trying to stop himself from holding onto Gerard to stabilise himself, already feeling himself starting to lose his balance from standing up so long, “you don't get it, you'be been with loads of people that you could spend a lifetime with, it's not, like, this special thing to find someone you love enough for that, anymore. But it's not for me, I'm still fucking mortal and I fucking love you, Gerard,” he says, spitting it out like an insult, and Gerard’s heart all but stops beating because Frank hadn't told him that yet. “I know you might think you do too, because you think I'm him, but I'm not him and I can't be him and I won't ever be him. You know, I thought there was no fucking way you could you love me, even if you hadn't said it yet, I doubted you ever could because you're you and I'm me and I guess I was fucking right because you only started dating me because I look like him. I thought this was finally something that would fucking work out!” Frank yells, “I was so fucking wrong, I don’t believe you,” he finishes, trying to turn away towards the door, but Gerard grabs his arm, pulling him back despite his protests and angry looks.

“Frank-” Gerard says, his voice dripping with sadness, his chest aching from all the words Frank had directed at him.

“Get off of me.”

“Let me just try to explain, please, I- please,” he says, trying to ignore the persistent ache, ever increasing in its strength just from the look Frank's giving him.

“Why? Why should you get the chance?”

“Please, Frank, I- I love you too, you know that, I don't know how you could think that I don't, I love you so, so much, Frank, please,” Gerard begs, an edge of sadness to his words, the tears welling up in his eyes heard through his voice, “please, it’s gonna sound crazy, but you have to believe me, I can explain everything, please."

Frank keeps frowning, but doesn’t try to move away again, and Gerard can see his face soften slightly at Gerard’s words, silently telling him to go on.

“I- this is really going to sound crazy, but, have you, I dunno, have you ever heard of reincarnation?”

“If you think this is reincarnation just because we look the same then that’s bullshit and you’re just trying to come up with some kind of excuse to make yourself feel better and to make me stay.”

“No, it’s not- well, it is, but, I, ah, fuck,” Gerard stutters, his mind trying to grasp for any kind of explanation that makes sense that will make Frank stop being so pissed off at him quicker than it would take to explain the entire thing. “Can we sit down? It’s kind of a long story.”

Frank shakes his head, his jaw clenched tightly, “Make it shorter, then.”

“Okay, listen,” Gerard says, taking a deep breath and preparing himself, “before I was turned, when I was still human, there was this guy, Frank,” he starts, gesturing towards to sketchbook, still sitting open at the drawing of the Frank he was talking about.

Frank nods slowly, and Gerard can tell he wants to interject, to argue that just because they look the same and have the same name, it doesn’t mean that they’re the same person, but he gives Gerard another chance, luckily.

“We were…together,” Gerard says, as if it wasn’t obvious enough already, “we had to keep it secret, cause, y’know, we were both guys and…yeah,” he says, feeling his nerves increasing with Frank’s stare, “he was there when I turned, he was the guy that helped Mikey stop everyone from burning me at the stake. He stayed with me even though I was considered a monster by everyone I’d ever known, even if they didn’t know I was one of the monsters they were all terrified of. When he died, I was devastated, I-”

“Gerard,” Frank interrupts, “I don’t want to just hear you talk about all your ex-boyfriends and their deaths and try to make me sympathise with you enough to make me forget this.”

“Okay, yeah, I just- listen, it’ll make sense in a bit, I hope,” Gerard says, and goes on to explain everything. How he met Frank again after he’d died, and how he kept coming back, and Gerard just put it down to some kind of weird coincidence at first until he realised that it couldn't just be a coincidence, and that instead it must be some kind of reincarnation, and he was just lucky enough to keep finding Frank in each of his lives. He skips over what had happened after Frank first died, what had gotten Mikey turned, and when a similar thing happened after he lost hope of ever finding Frank again. He explains how he knew it was still him, and not just somehow someone with the same name and face, and how he hadn’t seen him in seventy years when he saw him playing a show in that bar, and how Pete and Mikey are the only ones who know the whole story, except Patrick, who only knows bits and pieces from what Pete’s told him.

Frank stays silent, despite Gerard finally finishing, and Gerard can see him slowly thinking, still a slight frown between his eyebrows.

“I need some space,” Frank finally says, his voice quiet and emotionless.

“Frank-” Gerard begs, expressing everything he needs to just through his name.

“No, I...I need to, I don’t know. I…I’ve gotta go,” Frank says, pulling out of Gerard’s grip, turning and leaving quicker than it takes for Gerard to even process what had happened.

Gerard sighs, his breathing and hands shaking, both to their own uneven rhythm, making him feel even more off-balance as he slowly makes his way back to the sofa, not even trying to follow Frank, curling up on it and pressing the balls of his hands to his eyes, willing his emotions away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't really get any chance to update while camping but now I can again regularly thank god


	23. Chapter 23

"Hey, so th-” Pete starts when he walks in the door, freezing mid-sentence when he sees Gerard, curled up sideways on the sofa, face covered, his body heaving with each slow breath.

“Gerard?” he asks, going over to him and kneeling in front of the sofa, pulling Gerard’s hands away from his face; he’s asleep, but Pete still notices the redness around his eyes, and the frown still present even in his sleep.

Pete sighs, not wanting to wake him up, but not wanting him to leave him, in case something bad had happened, so he settles down on the other sofa, picking up an old magazine from the coffee table.

 

“I told him,” Gerard says, when he finally wakes up, not having moved.

“What?” Pete asks, almost jumping when he hears Gerard’s voice.

“Frank found my sketchbook,” Gerard starts to explain, “he...he jumped to conclusions. He thought I was just still in love with some guy from when I was younger, and that I’d just dated anyone that looked like him to try and replace him after he’d died. He was so upset. He said he had thought this could’ve been it for him, but that he must’ve been wrong and now he doesn't even think I actually care about him, that it was all just because he looked like someone else. He hates me."

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you, there's no way that that can go straight to hate. Did you explain everything to him?”

Gerard nods, slowly pushing himself into a sitting position, rubbing it at his eyes, “I told him everything, about the reincarnation, not seeing him for 70 years, how I know that it’s him, not just a coincidence. That he’s the same person.”

“What did he say?”

“That he needed some space.”

"Maybe he just needs to think a bit. I mean, it's a lot to take in."

Gerard shakes his head, "He's not gonna come back. He doesn't want to see me again."

"Did he actually say that?"

"No, but-"

"You're worrying too much, Gerard."

"No I'm not. You didn't see it, Pete; he was so upset, he hates me. He said that...that he didn't believe I could ever love him and I doubt he thinks I do even now. What if he doesn't come back? What if...what if he just moves on? What if he forgets about me and I'll just be some bad memory that comes up when he's laughing about ex-boyfriends with his new husband?"

"Gerard, calm down, okay?" Pete says, his voice still calm and even, "Frank's not married, you're not an ex-boyfriend, and there's no way that he could just forget about you. You're over-thinking all of this; Frank just needs to think things over, I mean, would you believe someone if you'd been dating several weeks and then they tell you that you're one of the reincarnations of all their exes? You'd need time to just actually process it all. He needs some space, he's not gonna just leave like that, and he wouldn't forget you."

"So?! He might not be able to forget about me just like that, so what? He could still just...just leave. Even if he can't forget about me, even if he knows it would be hard, he could still do it, if he thinks it's better for him, if he thinks I'm that shit of a person and leaving me is worth trying to forget."

"Gerard-"

"I need to...I need to see him. I can't do this. I need to talk to him, I need to explain again. I could've- I could've said it better. He doesn't know everything, I should tell him everything. I need to call him."

"Gerard, no; you'll regret it and it could just make things worse, or make you feel worse. You just need to let him think, for a bit."

"I've got to talk to him, Pete," Gerard says, somewhat sobering up and reaching forward for his phone, sitting on the coffee table.

"No way," Pete says, grabbing the phone before Gerard can, "you don't want to call him right now if he's thinking everything through, you could mess something up."

"I won't, I've already messed it up as much as I can," Gerard says, trying to sound convincing and failing, sitting up to face Pete properly, "I just...please let me call him."

"No. You're a mess, you can't call him."

"I can, I'm fine."

"Still no."

"I need to call him," Gerard repeats, sitting up further, making a grab for the phone before Pete can react, standing up quickly once he's got it, running to the bathroom and locking Pete out.

"Gerard," Pete says through the door, knocking harshly, "you're not, like, a five-year-old trying to hide."

"I don't care. I need to talk to him," Gerard says, finding Frank's contact and hesitantly hovering his thumb over the 'call' button.

"Don't screw this up, Gerard."

"I won't," Gerard says, not even believing his words himself, let alone expecting Pete to, pressing the button before he can change his mind, feeling his stomach somehow simultaneously sinking and fluttering and just becoming more nervous with each ring, Pete quietly swearing behind the door when he hears it.

It stops ringing after several times, and then an automated woman's voice is asking Gerard to leave a message, and suddenly he's feeling even more sick.

"Frank?" Gerard says, praying his voice isn't shaking too badly, "Are you there?" he asks, thinking Frank might just be ignoring him; deliberately not picking up because he doesn't want to talk to Gerard. "I- fuck, I'm sorry," he continues after a couple of minutes of waiting, "I was telling the truth, completely. I was...I was going to tell you it all, at some point, but I was scared that you would...fuck, that you wouldn't understand or I wouldn't make enough sense and that I'd lose you again and I...I can't, not again, not any more. You were right to...to think all of that, I was an idiot and I should've told you before, or...I don't know. I...sorry, I shouldn't have, fuck, you don't want to hear me right now, I'm sorry, Pete was right, I shouldn't have called, I...sorry," Gerard stutters, hanging up after more swearing.

"Gerard?" Pete asks after Gerard's sat in silence for another couple of minutes.

"Yeah?" Gerard replies, eventually pushing himself up again and opening the door to Pete.

"It'll be fine," Pete tries to reassure him.

"Yeah," Gerard says, sounding unconvinced.

"Come on, he didn't say anything bad, right? He just said he needed some space. He just needs to think about it, then it'll be fine."

"Will it, though? I've never told Frank before, I've never- I don't know how he'll handle this."

"It's a new experience," Pete says, "that's something, especially when you're not getting many of them. Just, I mean, think about it from Frank's point of view, he knows you've done everything before, so he's gonna be jealous of anyone you've been with before already, finding out they all looked like him isn't exactly confidence-boosting."

"I explained it to him though."

"It's still a lot to take in, just give him time."

Gerard nods, still not wanting to have to wait to see whether or not Frank actually believes him or not, but giving in anyway.


	24. Chapter 24

A sharp knock on the door rouses Gerard from his sleep, and, as tempted as he is to just ignore it and go back to sleep, he knows that Pete isn’t home, and that it could be ‘something important’, like Pete had told him the last time he’d ignored the door and they ended up with no water for a week because someone had been coming to fix the plumbing, which, Gerard never hesitates to remind Pete of when he brings it up, is technically Pete's fault, because he was the one that somehow managed to mess up their plumbing in the first place.

Gerard gets up with a sigh, not bothering to get dressed before he goes to the door; whoever it is, they can see him in the pyjamas, he’s been living in the past few days, and he's not about to change that for whoever's at their door.

He pulls open the door, not being able to hide his complete and utter surprise at seeing the last person he’d expected to standing behind it, looking nervous and apologetic.

“Frank?”

“Uh, hey,” he says quietly, still looking nervous; Gerard had done as Pete suggested and gave Frank the space he probably needed, so he could think about everything. Gerard doesn't know if Frank heard his message, or just ignored it, but he hadn't tried to call him or anything in the past few days, and Gerard wanted to try not to worry - Pete had told him not to enough times - but he still found himself checking his phone every five minutes and getting just as disappointed each time when he saw there were no messages or missed calls from Frank.

“I thought you…I thought we were…I thought you hated me.”

Frank shakes his head, eyes wide and sincere, “Listen, Gee, I’m sorry, I really overreacted and I should’ve listened to you and not just thought all that stuff and I just wasn't thinking, cause I was already insecure about that anyway and the fact that you've had over two and a half centuries more life than me and two and a half centuries worth of dates and boyfriends or girlfriends more than me and I should've listened to you more and I really don't know if this is a good idea or not and what you told me sounds completely crazy no matter how many different ways I think of it and this could be a huge mistake but I really really like you, too much to be able to just leave because of whatever the hell this is and I don't know, could we, like...talk, again, about this. I won't try to...to, like, say anything or jump to any stupid conclusions and I'll trust you, it's just...I was upset before and I wasn't listening properly and I've thought this over a lot and I thought it might make more sense if we could talk about it more, only if you want to, though, and-"

"Frank," Gerard interrupts his rambling, smiling when Frank finally takes a breath after talking a mile a minute, acting as if he had to convince Gerard to even consider talking to him again, as if he hadn't been waiting by his phone since Frank left.

Frank looks up from where he'd been staring down at his feet, now looking at Gerard with wide, still somewhat nervous, eyes.

Gerard steps forward, pulling Frank into a hug, letting the relief flood through him that Frank's still here and he hasn't decided to leave even after Gerard's told him everything, or, at least, most of it, and he actually wants to understand this completely.

"You're such an idiot, you know," Gerard says into Frank's shoulder, barely containing his smile, not even bothered that Frank's still standing there, completely shocked and not hugging Gerard back yet.

"What did I-"

"I've been fucking sitting by the phone for days hoping you'd call or text or anything," Gerard says, pulling back, "and you're acting like I must hate you and wouldn't want to talk to you."

"I was worried you would...I...after what I said and I was just an idiot and I wouldn't believe anything you said and I just...I thought you wouldn't want to see me again, I thought you'd hate me," Frank says, looking down again.

"I couldn't hate you for anything, Frank," Gerard says, "I've been in love with you for fucking centuries."

"Yeah, we need to...like, talk. About that. Because, I mean, just...like, how? How am I...and you always..."

"Do you wanna come in?" Gerard asks, hating the formalities; normally the apartment door would be left unlocked if either Gerard or Pete were home, so Frank would just walk straight in and find wherever Gerard was; he hasn't had to knock or be invited in for weeks.

"Yeah...yeah," Frank says, following Gerard back inside, and Gerard can see how much he hates it too; this new awkwardness since they fought, and Gerard can only hope that once they've actually talked everything through that it'll be better.

"But," Frank starts the second they both sit down on the sofas, frowning slightly, "reincarnation?"

"I know," Gerard says, "it's...at least, I think that's what it is, it's all just a complete guess, really."

"Is that, like, do you think this is why that weird stuff keeps happening? Like, the déjà vu and stuff?"

"I think so, I have no idea, it's never happened before."

"Really?" Frank asked, the same look he'd had before when Gerard had told him it had only happened with him before crossing his face, "Has he, uh, have I ever remembered anything?" he asks, frowning at himself, sounding uncertain of how to refer to it, which Gerard can't really blame him for.

Gerard shakes his head, "I've never even told you about this before. I was going to, at some point, I don't know when though."

The look on Frank's face gets stronger, as if he'd been jealous of his past selves, but has something over them now, "I was...when we first met, it was weird, like, I felt like I recognised you, but didn't know why or from where but once we started talking it was like...we had known each other forever, you know? I felt so comfortable with you straight away, and I just thought it was cause I liked you so much, but it might be something to do with this...thing."

"Why didn't you say something?" Gerard asks, his brain already excessively working over what Frank's told him; this might've happened before, if Frank didn't say anything this time, he might've done the same before, but, for whatever reason, Gerard feels like this is another unique thing.

"I didn't understand, really, I didn't want to say anything in case I freaked you out, and then when I said that stuff about the déjà vu, you'd always act really weird, so I didn't want to say anything."

"Oh, crap, yeah, sorry, I didn't mean to, it's just-"

"Yeah, it's- it makes sense, now." Gerard nods, desperate to keep asking questions and find out about any other memories or weird things that'd been happening with Frank, but not wanting to push him any further when he's still actually getting used to the idea of this all, and probably needs to ask questions more than he needs to answer them.

"So, I...I die, and then...come back?"

"Kind of, I guess. Like, every time you'd die, I'd always meet you maybe 20 years after, and you're always around about the same age as the years since you died, so I think it's pretty instant."

"This is so weird; you talking about me dying and stuff and, like, how is this real? Reincarnation? I mean, it's one of those things that I was never really sure if I believed or not, like, it can never really be proved, so you just accept that and move on, but this is...I've lived lives before that I hardly even remember."

"Hardly?"

"Well, uh, there's, like, sometimes...it's weird, I don't know how to explain it, really."

"What is it?"

"Sometimes, normally if something happens - with us - that hasn't before, then I'll have these weird moments, like, flashes of memories, or something. I didn't really understand what the hell it was, it was kind of like when you have a dream, and you remember it, but you also don't, you know? And, it would just last for a second or two, and then I'd just have that weird dream feeling and I felt like they were some kind of memory, but I really didn't understand it because I didn't know about...this."

"You...uh, what kind of memories did you get?" Gerard asks, trying to comprehend how much was happening that never happened with Frank before.

"Well, like, sometimes it would be when we kissed or something like that, and then other times it would just come out of nowhere when we were watching a movie or walking down the street or something. Normally the memories would be just, like, kind of be related to what was happening, like, when we were walking down the street holding hands, I'd get these weird flashes of doing the same thing, but everything was slightly off, and I guess, now, it's cause it was a couple of hundred years in the past, or something. And when...when you bit me," Frank says, Gerard cringing at the mentioning of it, since what had happened last time, "the first time," Frank clarifies, noticing Gerard's wince, "it was this sudden, really clear memory, and at first I thought it was cause you were biting me, but I felt like I couldn't breathe for a second, but it was like a dream, like I felt like I couldn't but I actually could, and you were there, I just remember you holding my hand and you were _sad_ , and it was gone after a second and I just tried to ignore it, which wasn't hard when you had your fucking teeth in my neck," Frank says, letting out a small laugh.

"Why didn't you tell me about that?"

"I didn't know what it was, and I didn't understand it, and I didn't want you to think it was, like, really weird or anything. Sorry, I should've, but- I don't know," Frank mumbles, looking down at his hands in his lap, then suddenly looking up at Gerard with a weird look in his eyes.

"Do you- do you know what that was? That memory?" he asks, sounding so hopeful, "That's the only one I remember the most, it...I kind of forgot about it, in the moment, but later, once I was home, I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I didn't get what it really was and the clearest part was just this horrible fear and knowing that you were just so sad."

"I..." Gerard says, trying not to think to much about it, "I think...I think that was the first time you died," he tells Frank, watching his face drop from hopefulness into sympathy. "You caught tuberculosis," he explains, probably the reason why Frank felt like he could hardly breathe, "you weren't even thirty, yet."

"Oh," Frank says, sounding so sad on Gerard's part, reaching out a hand to comfort him and then dropping it, unsure. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

Gerard shakes his head again, "It's fine, it's been centuries, I shouldn't still be able to get worked up about this."

"I'm here now, right?" Frank says, giving him a small smile, "At least, I think so, if this is me."

"Yeah," Gerard replies, pulling him back into another hug, Frank actually processing it enough to hug him back, this time.


	25. Chapter 25

"Move in with me," Frank says, pretty much out of nowhere, pausing the movie they'd started; they'd kept talking for what must've been hours, mostly Frank just asking Gerard questions about his reincarnation, trying to understand it more, and once he'd finally realised that Gerard hardly knew anything, and that he was actually telling the truth about it all, he got more interested in his past lives, what he did, who he was.

"Have I always been a guy?" Frank had asked, after already asking about his careers in each life, pleased to find out that most of the time it was something music-related, or he at least wanted to do something music-related.

"You were a girl, once."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, it was really weird, I wasn't expecting it and I just got super confused," Gerard had told him, making Frank laugh at the confused face he pulled again. "You made a pretty girl," Gerard added, as an afterthought, "you make a pretty guy."

Frank laughed again, despite the redness creeping across his cheeks, "You're such a dork," he told him, going on to ask more about other weird things from his past lives.

 

“You only just moved out,” Gerard reminds him, with a laugh.

"It’s been ages since I lived here, and it was for, like, a week, anyway. And we hadn’t started dating yet, either, so we didn’t get to take full advantage of it,” he tells him, with a more than suggestive look.

"It hasn't been _that_ long," Gerard says, for once thankful that he hasn't fed too recently because otherwise his face would be bright fucking red right now.

"You've got a really shitty sense of time, because that was ages ago."

"Really?" Gerard asks, hoping to distract Frank from his question; he wanted to move in with Frank, of course he wanted to move in with him, but he couldn't help worrying; even if Frank seemed pretty okay - at least, for now, he was dealing with it without freaking out - with the reincarnation stuff, but something could happen and he could change his mind, and if they're constantly around each other and living together, then it's even more likely to happen. He didn't trust himself as much, either, since he'd last bitten Frank; something similar could happen, he knew Frank wouldn't want to stop just because Gerard had been an idiot one time and took too much - and was reminded of it every time Frank didn't wear collared shirts or scarves, thanks to the two small scars now on his neck, which he'd been surprised had even stayed - and he couldn't let Frank manage to convince him again and lose control like that again; he could hurt him even more, this time, if he wasn't careful.

"Look," Frank says, watching Gerard with a weird look behind his eyes, a slight frown on his lips, "if...if you don't want to, it's fine. I'm not gonna get offended, or anything."

"No, no, it's not-" Gerard starts, frowning himself because there's no real way to express what he's thinking without offending Frank - he knew he was lying and just trying to make Gerard comfortable when Frank said he wouldn't get offended, or upset, at least - or giving him the wrong idea so that he thinks Gerard just saying a bunch of nonsense so Frank wouldn't get upset over the fact that he doesn't want to move in with him. Which he definitely, definitely does.

"I know it's soon and some people don't move in together for ages after they started dating, way longer than we've been dating," Frank says, "but, I don't know, I guess this is because of the reincarnation thing, right?" he asks, flashing Gerard a quick but nervous smile, "But I just feel comfortable enough with you to want to and I want to be able to spend all that time with you and come home to you reading comics or filling every surface of our apartment with drawings or watching Star Wars _again_ and make breakfast with you in the mornings and laugh at you when you're a zombie before you get your caffeine and, fuck, I just wanna live with you, Gerard."

"We already practically live together, we spend so much time at each other's apartments."

"Then why are you being weird about this? If you don't want to, just fucking tell me."

"I do want to, Frankie, I just...don't know if it'd be a good idea or not."

"Why not?"

"If...I could...I might, like, I don't know, I might...I might hurt you, again."

"Gerard..."

"You know it could happen, Frank."

"You didn't hurt me though, it was just an accident. Living together isn't going to make anything more or less likely to happen, anyway."

"It will, we'll be around each other more, and you'll want to..."

"Gerard, if you really don't want to bite me again I'm not gonna push you."

"I don't want to stop, I...I just, fuck, why did I have to screw it up? Why couldn't I be careful?"

"It was my fault too, Gee," Frank says reassuringly, resting his hand against Gerard's cheek and stopping him from turning away again.

"I don't want you get hurt..."

"I won't, I'll be fine, okay? This isn't anything to do with us moving in together."

Gerard still looks doubtful, frowning slightly, "I know, but.."

"We can talk about this still, yeah? We can, like, figure out what you wanna do, if you don't...if you don't feel comfortable biting me anymore, then we don't have to do it again, if you do, still, then I'm more than willing to continue."

Gerard nods, feeling somewhat reassured, but still unsure.

"Is it about Pete?"

"What?" Gerard asks, not expecting that in the slightest, not really having expected anything, to be fair.

"You guys...you've lived together for a while, right? He's your best friend, I get it if you don't want to move out; you hardly leave the house except when one of us is with you, so you might not see him as much."

"Pete would still come round, he needs someone to low-key complain about Patrick too," Gerard says, laughing despite his worries.

"Is he seriously still in complete denial?"

"Well, I tease him about Patrick all the time - never when he's around, of course - and he always tells me to fuck off or whatever, but if I ever genuinely ask him about it, he's just oblivious to his complete infatuation with him."

"Do you know if Patrick likes him back?"

"I don't know, probably. He adores him either way, as a friend or otherwise."

"You should talk to him about it, play Cupid."

"Pete would skin me alive."

"Pete doesn't have to know, until it's, like, your best man's speech at their wedding. Or Patrick tells him."

"The second sounds way more likely."

"Okay, yeah, fair enough."

Gerard nods, not really sure what he's agreeing to, then sits back, turning away from Frank and looking back towards the still-paused TV, having no intent of playing it again.

"I'd have to actually go shopping," Gerard says in realisation after thinking for a couple of minutes, Frank having left him in silence.

Frank laughs, "We could go shopping together," he suggests, "it'd be fun; we could, like, experiment with some really flavoured stuff for you. And slightly less flavoured for me so I don't destroy half my taste buds like when I tried your gross coffee."

Gerard can't help but smile at Frank's willingness to adjust to Gerard's weird vampire needs, even if he doesn't really need to, because Gerard doesn't even really need to eat, and hardly does anyway, but Frank's still willing to buy and try a bunch of things for the sake of Gerard.

"So is that a yes?" Frank asks, looking hopeful.

"It'd be a lot of hard work moving everything..."

"You don't have _that_ much stuff."

"And it'd hardly be changing anything, we're already at each other's places all the time..."

"So then it shouldn't matter."

"I don't know..."

"You're not saying no."

"But I'm not saying yes."

"You said you want to, I know you want to."

Gerard sighs, smiling anyway, "You're so stubborn."

"I need to be, otherwise you'd never do anything," Frank counters, grinning at him when Gerard rolls his eyes.

"If we move in together this doesn't mean you're allowed to wake me up, still. At any time," Gerard says, seeing Frank's smirk and knowing he remembers all the times he's tried to drag an exhausted Gerard out of bed after he's slept for most likely more than 12 hours straight.

"That's a yes, then, right?"

"It's not a no."

"Then it's totally a yes."


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically just a filler chapter and I'm awful at writing them which is why this took so long and is probably a bit disjointed and short

"Did you know Patrick could sing?" Pete asks, looking at Gerard seriously, "I never knew he could sing, he never told me he could sing. He doesn't even _think_ he can sing, but I heard him, and he really can."

Gerard laughs, rolling his eyes, "How are you still in denial?"

"Of what?"

"That you're completely head over heels for Patrick."

"I'm...what?" Pete asks, looking genuinely shocked, "No, I...it wouldn't...that wouldn't...it...we....he wouldn't..."

"I bet he likes you back."

"No, he...it...I don't even..."

"Pete, relax," Gerard says, trying not to laugh at the mixture of confusion and surprise on Pete's face, slowly disappearing.

"Oh," Pete says suddenly, remembering something, "I need to-"

"Are you guys seriously talking and drinking coffee while I - the smallest of us and the only one without fucking vampire strength - am carrying all this shit around?" Frank says, cutting Pete off as he appears in the doorway to the kitchen, where Gerard and Pete had been talking - one of the boxes of Gerard's stuff in his arms, putting it down carefully to the side and stepping forward to take the coffee Gerard's now holding out for him.

"So who's the spare room gonna go to?" Frank asks, going to stand next to Gerard and ducking under one of his arms, leaning against his side, which Pete doesn't hesitate to roll his eyes at.

"I don't know," Pete shrugs, "everyone I know has their own places or roommates already."

"I know someone who doesn't," Gerard mumbles, smirking at Pete when he scowls at him.

"Patrick's not moving into your room."

"Well, yeah, I would expect him to move into your room, instead."

"Wha- fuck you."

Gerard just grins even wider, Pete's constant scowling at him not really helping or changing that.

"Why don't you ask him out?" Frank asks.

"I...no, I...we're just friends."

"Oh my god," Gerard says, "You have the biggest crush on him and you know it."

"No...why would I...he's...we're friends."

"You're not fooling anyone."

"Shut up."

"So is this, like, settled that Pete has a stupid crush and sucks at hiding it?" Frank asks, taking a sip of his coffee to hide his smirk when Pete directs his scowl at him instead.

"Yes," Gerard agrees.

"No!" Pete protests, looking helplessly between the two of them, "We wouldn't...it's not...it wouldn't work out."

"You don't know that," Gerard says, just as Frank says, "So that means you like him?"

"No."

Frank rolls his eyes, "Why don't you ask him out?" he asks again, giving up on getting him to try and admit his crush - even though half the stuff he says is close enough to admitting it - knowing from Gerard how many times he's brought it up before.

"No fucking way, I could completely screw up our friendship."

"Your friendship's just become sexual and romantic tension," Gerard says, "Romantic tension, is that a thing?"

"Pete and Patrick make it a thing," Frank says.

"No we don't."

"I bet Patrick likes you back, though."

"He-" Pete starts, abruptly cutting himself off when they all hear the front door opening, Patrick coming into the kitchen a couple of seconds later, Pete going bright red.

"You guys wanted help, right?" Patrick asks, looking round at them all and frowning, "What?"

"Nothing," Gerard says, standing up straight again and grinning, "Pete's just being an idiot."

"Yeah, that's not an uncommon thing, you know."

 

"I was wrong," Frank says later, after taking one car-full of stuff to Frank's apartment and going back to Pete's to get more, sighing and slowly sinking down to the floor, "you do have a lot of stuff."

"I don't have that much stuff."

"You so do, we've already taken one car full of stuff over to my apartment and there's still so much."

"Hey, you collect a lot of shit after a couple of hundred years."

"Most of this is, like, 21st century shit."

Gerard shrugs, grinning when Frank rolls his eyes, "You know there's still a bunch of stuff to carry downstairs?" Gerard says, sitting down on the floor opposite Frank despite himself.

"Yeah, but it's fucking exhausting carrying all your crap."

Gerard laughs, absentmindedly playing with the frayed edges of his jeans, "We've only got a couple more boxes."

Frank hums in agreement, "Why is moving so hard?"

"You suggested it," Gerard says, looking up to smirk at Frank.

"Shut up," Frank says, rolling his eyes again, "you agreed to it."

"Well, I didn't really."

"I think packing up all your stuff and taking it in boxes to my apartment says more than 'I'm gonna move in with you'."

"Okay, yeah, maybe."

"Are you two seriously sitting around doing nothing?" Pete says from the doorway to Gerard’s bedroom, making them both jump.

"We're taking a break," Frank says.

"No way, not anymore," Pete says, shoving a box in Frank and Gerard’s general direction before picking up one himself.

 

"I can't believe you're ditching me," Pete says when Gerard comes back upstairs for the last box.

"I'm not ditching you," Gerard says, rolling his eyes, "I mean, like, I can still come here and you can still go there."

"It would take me at least ten years to convince you to get out of the house again, especially if Frank wasn't there, and I don't wanna, like, walk in on you guys having sex or something."

"You're just jealous cause I have a better sex life than you."

"Fuck you, my sex life is awesome," Pete retorts, just as Gerard walks out of the room, back to collect the box from his bedroom.

 

"Wait," Pete says when Gerard comes back out, grabbing his arm to stop him going out the front door, turning him to face him.

"What?" Gerard asks, trying to keep from dropping the box he's holding; it's the last one they need to take out to Frank's car and it's pretty much full of only comic books, and so, it's heavy as fuck.

Pete doesn't say anything, but looks down at his phone, typing out a text and grinning.

"You know Patrick is just downstairs with Frank, right? You don't have to text him," Gerard teases."

"Shut up, it's not Patrick," Pete says, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

"Who is it then?"

“Well, uh, that's kind of what...uh, okay, guess what?” Pete asks, looking pleased with himself, all but jumping up and down on the spot.

“What?”

“I found your brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to use this space to say how much I love Andy Hurley because he hasn't got a huge part in this fic but it doesn't mean he's not my favourite person ever


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I had a good reason for not updating the last couple of days again or could say I was actually doing something productive but really I was just watching parks and recreation

"You've...you've talked to him?"

"Yeah," Pete says, nodding, "I can't believe you're such an idiot that you thought he  _hated_ you all this time."

"He did. Does."

"No way, dude, he was fucking ecstatic when I told him I knew you, he thought I was tricking him or something. I'm pretty sure he still kinda does."

"But, he-"

"He wants to see you," Pete interrupts.

"He does?"

"Yes, he's your brother you idiot."

"But...what if he does still hate me?"

"What, and he wants to see you just so he can yell at you for your stupid mistakes? No one's that much of a dickhead."

"I know, but...I still, I can't...did he say when he wanted to see me?"

"I said we'd figure that out after I'd actually  _told_ you and you'd agreed to it all."

"I don't...what if...it's been  _years_...what if, I don't know...what if he's changed? What if he  _does_ still hate me? What if this is just some guy  _pretending_ to be Mikey..." _  
_

"I found him, if he's just some random guy then why would he pretend he's Mikey when I told him about you?"

"I don't know, he...I don't know."

"Think about it, okay? I know you miss him, you're just being an idiot and overthinking everything  _again,_ I would give you his number but you'd do something stupid, so just tell me when you're done being weird and actually want to see your brother."

"I  _do_ want to see him, I just-"

"I know," Pete interrupts, "but you need to go, you're kind of halfway through moving house and your boyfriend's waiting for you."

"I...yeah," Gerard says, turning and going back out.

 

"Okay," Frank says, several days later once they'd almost gotten used to living together, out of nowhere, putting his book down and using Gerard's chest - which he'd been half lying on - to push himself up and into a sitting position, facing Gerard.

"Wha-" Gerard starts.

"Something's wrong," Frank interrupts, "you've been sitting there for, what, like, an hour, at least, doing nothing while I read and you've been acting weird since you moved in so what is it?"

"It's...Pete was, uh, Pete's the only other person that really knows about my brother, and a while ago he decided he was gonna, like, try to find him somehow, and I didn't think he'd be able to because I haven't seen him in decades, and I thought...I thought he'd be dead, or, I don't know, something, but he's not and Pete just told me earlier that he's fucking found him and...I...I don't know what to do, I just- I don't know."

"Oh, woah," Frank says, not hiding his surprise, "he's sure it's your brother?"

Gerard nods, "He says he's talked to him."

"What did he say?"

"He wants to see me, but I- fuck, I don't know, what if he still hates me?"

"There's no way he can still hate you, he's probably forgotten why he was mad at you in the first place."

"It's not an easy thing to forget."

“Was it- that thing, that happened, with your brother. Was it...was it me that died?”

Gerard nods, "It-" he starts, then sighs, taking a deep breath before he continues, "I was used to you dying, well, not actually used to it, it still fucking crushed me every time, but I could handle it, you know? Even though it was still horrible, I still had that hope of knowing I'd get to meet you again sometime soon. But, then, you died in World War 2, and I'd hardly even gotten the chance to meet you, let alone get to know you. I waited years, decades, to try and find you again. I did everything I could to try and find you with what little information I had on you, but there was nothing."

"That's when you didn't see me for seventy years?"

Gerard nods again, "I didn't exactly...take it well. I'd just lost complete fucking hope of ever finding you again, and it fucking destroyed me."

"What- what did you?"

"I..." Gerard says, pausing to think, "when you first died, before I knew any of this reincarnation shit or whatever this is was possible, I was just as messed up. You were the person keeping me from just being a shitty vampire that went round killing people like the rest of them were, so, when you died, that's exactly what I became. It wasn't even just people, I'd kill vamps, too, if they pissed me off or got in my way. So, I got on a lot of people's bad sides. I was the reason Mikey got turned; I'd killed one too many vamps from this stupid fucking gang and they figured out the best way to get to me - cause they'd seen that I didn't really give a shit about myself - was by kidnapping Mikey. I'm sure they would've killed him, I don't know why they didn't, but they just dumped him on my doorstep one day, a fucking vampire. He didn't hold it against me, but he just wanted to do everything to make sure nothing would happen that'd make me do that again."

"When I didn't come back..."

Gerard nods, "Mikey tried to keep me hopeful, but it had been years and years since when I'd normally find you, so there wasn't really any hope left for me and I just regressed into that fucking monster I'd been before."

"You weren't-"

"You didn't see me, Frank; I was. It's- I don't blame Mikey for hating me."

"Why did he hate you, though?"

"We lived together, then. The other vampires knew about him, and knew that he was the only person left that I actually cared about. He could barely even go outside without almost getting killed. We fought a lot, every night that I was actually home, he'd try get me to stop, to get me back to my old self again, but I'd never listen to anything he said. I was hardly even home anymore, I would just be off hooking up with people and killing them after and killing any vampires that would try to get fucking 'revenge' on me for killing their friends.

"Mikey tried everything he could to get me to actually  _listen_ but I'd always be high or drunk or just too fucking ignorant to actually pay attention. Then, something...I...I don't know, I was super depressed and something in me just snapped, eventually, I guess, and I...something...happened," Gerard says, one hand absentmindedly going to the place just below his ribs and just above his stomach, "Mikey left that night, he tried to talk to me, to get me to understand why I was being such an idiot, he said he could help, but I just wouldn't fucking  _listen_ , and he left."

"What made you stop?"

"Pete and the others, I- I almost killed him, and the others were all for killing me when they had the upper hand, but Pete, for whatever reason, wanted to try and help me. They basically locked me in a room in their basement for weeks and just fed me old blood until I'd given up and would actually let them talk to me and try to reason with me."

Frank doesn't say anything, just sits in stunned silence, watching Gerard with his eyebrows drawn together in concern.

"Please don't say I've freaked you out because I  _know_ I'm a horrible person and I know I've killed hundreds of people but I-"

"No, no, you're not, Gerard, I love you, you know that."

"Yeah, but-"

"Are you gonna see Mikey?" Frank interrupts.

"I don't know...what if he still hates me?"

"I doubt he even  _hated_ you in the first place, and it sounds like he only left because of what you were doing, but you're not like that anymore, he has no reason to hate you."

"I could've gotten him killed."

"So? I could've gotten my mother killed when I was a kid after one of the numerous times I ran into the middle of the road and she had to get me, but she doesn't hate me."

"That's not the same."

"I don't care, you need to see him again, I can see how much you care about him and you're just gonna tear yourself up about this forever if you don't actually talk to him and see that he  _doesn't_ hate you."

"What if he does, though?"

"He doesn't."

"He does."

"Yeah, but you also thought I didn't like you until I asked you out."

"Okay, but you were, like, being subtle."

"I so wasn't, I was trying to make it as obvious as possible."

"No you weren't."

"I really was."

"Shut up."


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so bad at updating lately I'm sorry and I'm going to try harder with the next updates

"Are you sure I should do this?"

"Why _wouldn't_ you do this? He's your brother, he wants to see you and you definitely want to see him."

"I don't know, I'm just...nervous."

"It'll be fine," Frank says, trying to think of anything new to reassure Gerard with, which is hard when Gerard has just been repeated all the same worries since he decided a couple of days ago to meet with Mikey today. 

"But what if he still hates me? What if he lied to Pete and...and...I don't know. What if this is a trick from those other vampires?"

"Gerard, you need to stop worrying about him hating you, he wouldn't have bothered even replying to Pete if he hated you," Frank says, trying to sound reassuring.

"I know, but..." Gerard says, looking down at his hands, wringing them together nervously.

"Come on," Frank says, reaching out one hand to still Gerard's, the heat and steadiness of it already starting to calm him, "it's gonna be fine."

"I can't- I can't do this," Gerard says, looking back up at Frank again, "can't you stay?"

"I don't wanna intrude on this."

"It's fine, he knows you."

"I don't know him. He doesn't know _this_  me."

"Please?" Gerard asks, feeling like a complete kid and pretty much just wanting to hide behind Frank and not do anything, even though he knows how stupid he's being, because this is _Mikey;_ they've been best friends since they were kids, which is a lot longer than most people. A few years shouldn't change that, even when they parted on such bad terms.

"You don't need to worry about this, it's your brother," Frank reassures him, "I can come back later, okay? Once you guys have had time to talk."

"M'kay," Gerard mumbles, looking down again.

"Hey," Frank says, tilting his head back up with his free hand, "it's gonna be fine."

Gerard nods, still looking unsure, chewing nervously on his lip, and then Frank's lips are on his instead, just gently pressing against his, not trying to go any further, just trying to calm his shaking breaths.

"Please stay," Gerard says when they break away from one another, still keeping as close together as they can, foreheads pressed together, Gerard looking down at Franks lips and trying to avoid Frank's eyes boring into his own.

Frank shakes his head, Gerard's moving with it, their noses all but being crushed together, "It-"

"Honestly?" Pete interrupts with a sigh, making them both jump, "I get why some straight people don't like people shoving their gay in their faces, it's annoying. Especially you two, gross."

Gerard laughs, still with a nervous edge to it, "Pete, you're not even straight."

"Okay, I don't like any couples shoving their coupleness in my face."

"You're just bitter about Patrick," Frank adds, turning round to face where Pete had come in the doorway, leaning back against Gerard.

"No I'm not," Pete mumbles, looking down, the now pink tips of his ears still visible.

"You know," Gerard says, "when you actually finally ask him out, we'll stop making fun of you about him. Maybe."

Pete just glares at Gerard, refusing to say anything more, "We shouled probably go."

"No," Gerard says quickly, all his forgotten nerves returning in full force as he grabs the end of Frank's sleeve before he can walk off.

"Gerard, it's gonna be fine," Frank reassures him, turning to give him one last kiss, "we'll be back in a bit, okay? Call me or text me or whatever if anything happens."

Gerard nods hesitantly, following the two of them out into the living room to say another unwilling goodbye, then sitting down on the sofa, his nerves only getting worse now that he's alone.

"Fuck," Gerard whispers, staring down at his hands, which are both shaking a ridiculous amount again, he's just seeing his _brother_ , for god's sake. Gerard doesn't know how long he sits there, he doesn't really know what time Mikey is supposed to arrive, it feels like days, when it could've really been anywhere from five minutes to an hour.

As soon as he hears the knock on the door, his stomach drops. He's excited, in a weird, twisted way, he can't deny that; he's seeing his brother again for the first time in _years_ , and he can't ignore how much he's missed him. He is, also, scared completely and utterly shitless, and he knows it's completely unreasonable, because Mikey is the person that knows him best, and the only person he knew from before he was turned that's actually still alive. Frank probably doesn't count, especially considering he doesn't remember over half of their time together, half isn't even a good comparison, he remembers not even a year of it.

Gerard feels completely out of it when he walks to the front door, like this isn't actually his life and instead some weird ongoing dream he's been having since Pete suggested they try and find his brother. Or at least since before Pete told him he'd actually found him, because Gerard hadn't even want to get his hopes up to believe that Mikey was even still alive, let alone could be found and was willing to talk to Gerard, which is probably why this feels so surreal; Mikey can't actually be here, it's at least 10 times more likely that he's lying six feet under the ground, and, as much as Gerard hates to think it, it would be almost definitely his fault.

But then, he's opening the door, expecting to be attacked by some other vampire with a hatred for him and a lifelong plan of revenge, but instead it's Mikey, actually Mikey, his brother he hasn't seen in years.

He looks the same, but still different. He still has the same young face he's always had, still the same expression Gerard knows too well, but it also feels like he's aged. Gerard knows he hasn't really aged even a day, but he looks older without _actually_ looking older. His hairs definitely changed for the better, and his glasses are gone, but it's _Mikey_.

He looks Gerard up and down, looking just as stunned as Gerard feels, and before Gerard can even consider saying anything, he's pulling him into a hug.

"It's actually you," he says, squeezing Gerard even tighter, and Gerard can't help but just stand there in shock for a moment, because this is the last thing he expected; he expected to be yelled at, complained about, or even just fucking ignored. Not hugged like Mikey's missed him just as much as he's missed Mikey.

"I missed you so much, Mikey," Gerard says, finally returning the hug.

Mikey nods, pulling away, "You're such an idiot, you know that?"

"What?"

"Pete told me that you thought I hated you; that I never wanted to see you again. I've been searching for you for fucking _years._  I couldn't hate you. God, I've missed you," he says, pulling Gerard into another hug, "I thought you were dead," he says into Gerard's ear.

"I thought _you_ were dead," Gerard says, pulling back to look at Mikey again, and just process that he's actually _here_. "I thought you'd never want to see me again, I- you were looking for me?"

Mikey nods, "I didn't think you'd even leave Jersey, I just needed some time because you were being such an _idiot_ ," he says, and Gerard tries to interject with an apology, but Mikey just rolls his eyes and shushes him, "I regret leaving so much, you know? I never hated you, and when I tried to find you again and _couldn't_ , I freaked out, I thought that those vampires you were always intent on getting on the bad side of had actually succeeded at killed you."

"You seriously didn't hate me?"

"How the fuck could I hate you? Sure, I hate you like a brother because you can being annoying as hell, you know, but I'd never hate you like that and ignore you for years just because you were being an idiot and going round killing people."

"You say that like it's not a big deal," Gerard says, going to the living room and gesturing for Mikey to follow, the two of them sitting down on the sofa.

"It isn't as long as you're not doing it anymore."

Gerard shakes his head, "I'm okay now, Pete helped, he has these friends, too; they all helped me, god knows why."

Mikey laughs, rolling his eyes again, "Listen," he says, getting serious again, "are you- with Frank, are you okay now? I know it's always like, you know, he's always there, so it's hard when he isn't, but are you ready to move on?"

"What?"

"If Frank hasn't come back by now, I don't think he's going to, it's- you've gotta move on eventually."

"Wait, Pete didn't tell you?"

"What, tell me what?"

"It's- Frank _has_ come back," Gerard says, barely hiding his smile, "it wasn't that long ago, but it's him, and-"

"Are you sure this is right?" Mikey interrupts.

"What do you mean?"

"I know you and Frank are, like, fucking soulmates or whatever you want to call it and you guys are perfect for each other. But, every time it just ends with Frank dead and you depressed for at least a couple of decades, and it just gets worse each time. Is it worth it?"

"He's worth it."

"Gerard-"

"I can't just give up on this because I know Frank's always gonna die."

"You just always get hurt, you were depressed and _suicidal_ , Gee, I don't want that happening to you again."

"It's different this time."

"How? He's still gonna die, Gerard, you can't...that's not something you can ignore."

"I know, but it's...it's different, he _remembers_ things. I told him everything, about the reincarnation shit, what happened when he died when we were younger and last time, what happened with you. He told me he _remembers_  stuff, he gets these memories every now and then, or this weird déjà vu stuff. This hasn't happened before."

"This doesn't mean he's not going to die."

"I know, I know he could die in 60 years or 5 years and I could be the reason he does, I could be the one that fucking kills him or it could be my fucking fault when he gets killed by one of those vamps, but I can't just break up with him, I know it's probably selfish because he could have a normal fucking relationship with someone that ages with him, and he'd probably be ten times safer if he stays nowhere near me, but I can't cause I fucking love him to death and I know it won't end well, but I can't stand being the one that makes it end."

"I'm not asking you to just break up with him on the spot, I know that would kill you, but just be careful about this, please? I don't want you getting as bad as you were before, not again."

"I'll be careful, Mikes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is kind of nearing the end (not really there's still at least like 10 more chapters I don't know what I'm saying) but I was considering once it's done to do a kind of mini-sequel because I have some vague ideas for some stuff and if any of you guys would be interested it I could develop on them so please please let me know if that'd be something you'd be interested (otherwise nothing will get done because I'm an extremely lazy person)


	29. Chapter 29

"You seem happier," Frank says, watching Gerard sketching and trying not to move too much, pretending he hasn't noticed that Gerard's drawing him, trying and failing to be subtle about it.

"What do you mean?"

"Since you talked to Mikey," Frank explains, "I mean, it's not like you were unhappy before, but you're still happier now," he says.

Frank and Pete had gotten back to the apartment not that long after they'd left - instead with four cups of coffee - but with just enough time for Gerard and Mikey to catch up; Gerard explained how Pete had helped him and how he'd found Frank and what had happened when he'd found his sketchbook, Mikey told Gerard how impossible it was to find him - which, now that Mikey's found him, he knows is probably a good thing, because it means it'll be harder for other vampires to find and try to kill him, which is a far too common occurrence, thanks to Gerard's amazing ability to make enemies with just about every other vampire on the planet.

Gerard had re-introduced Mikey to Frank, and introduced Frank to Mikey, and at first Mikey had been weird about it, because he still wasn't sure about whether Gerard and Frank together was a good idea, but he soon loosened up just by seeing the way Gerard looked at Frank, and vice versa.

"Can I see?" Frank asks, when Gerard doesn't say anything, trying to peer round to get a glimpse of Gerard's sketch.

"Gerard?" Frank says, when Gerard still doesn't say anything.

"Hmm?" Gerard replies, looking up suddenly at Frank, and he only just now notices how pale Gerard looks, his eyes dark and tired, where they'd before been hidden by his hair falling in his face as he drew.

"Are you okay?"

"What? Yeah, fine."

"You look kinda...dead."

"I'm a vampire," Gerard retorts, looking down at his page again and back up at Frank, "I always look kinda dead."

"Seriously," Frank says, getting up and going over to Gerard, "you look really pale," he says, wrapping his hand round Gerard's wrist to feel his temperature; he can't quite bring himself to put his palm against his forehead like he's his fucking mother.

"You're freezing," Frank says, taking Gerard's other hand - making him drop the pencil with a noise of complaint - and rubbing them between his in an attempt to warm him up at least a bit.

"I'm fine," Gerard shrugs.

"When was the last time you fed?"

Gerard shakes his head, "I'm _fine_ ," he says, not sounding at all convincing.

"Seriously, Gerard."

He shrugs, "I don't know, I don't keep count."

"Jesus, you'd never survive living alone you'd just _forget_ to do the basic things that keep you alive," Frank says, rolling his eyes and walking round into the kitchen to check the fridge, but, of course, the only thing in there is normal, not blood filled, human food, which there's hardly any of as it is.

"There's nothing in the fridge," Frank tells Gerard when he goes back into the living room, not believing how completely fucking oblivious he was because how could he _not_ notice how fucking deathly Gerard looks?

"I'm fine, I can go buy some tomorrow."

"No way, you need something right now."

"Frank, I don't-"

"You can bite me."

"Frank-"

"Gerard, we've done this before, we've done this _safely_ plenty of times before, and god knows you need it right now."

"I'm not biting you, I could hurt you again."

"You _didn't_ hurt me, though!"

"Frank, I can't, not yet, at least."

"Look, I'll just go to the store, then," Frank suggests with a sigh.

"No, no," Gerard says straight away, pushing himself up off of the sofa, slowly, "I can go," he tells Frank, before almost falling over, caught by Frank, his hands gripping and pulling Gerard back up by his arms.

"No way, I can go, I'll be fine."

Gerard shakes his head, letting Frank sit him back down again, "It's not safe for you, Frank, it's dark and late and you'd be going into a room specifically for vampires."

"It's a room full of blood, it's not like they'll have a lack of choice."

"You're living and breathing, trust me, you'll be way more appealing."

"Don't worry, I can look after myself. They won't come near me if they don't want to be arrested."

"No vampires actually listen to the whole non-consensual feeding law, and no one's ever actually arrested for it, the government's scared shitless of us and they're just afraid of arresting the wrong person and then being attacked or overthrown by a gang of vampires."

"Gerard, I'm gonna be fine, I'll be back in, like, 20 minutes."

"Frank, please, just stay," Gerard begs one last time, watching as Frank slips on his shoes and jacket. "At least let me come with you."

"You can hardly even stand up, there's no way you can make it to the store."

"I'll be fine," Gerard says, trying to stand up again until Frank comes back over and pushes him gently back down.

"You're staying here, I'll be as quick as I can, okay?" Frank says, kissing Gerard quickly on the forehead, then disappearing out the front door before Gerard can protest again.

 

Gerard waits, lying in the living room, drifting in and out of a hazy sleep, a constant nagging thought in the back of his mind worrying about Frank.

Twenty minutes pass and Frank still isn't back, so Gerard checks his phone and his worry only increases when there's no new messages from him. Maybe he got held up in a queue, or there was traffic, or he couldn't find the separate room for all the blood, Gerard reasons with himself, trying to calm himself down, because Frank just said twenty minutes as a guess, it didn't mean he'd be back here exactly twenty minutes after he left, and failing miserably.

 

After at least an hour since Frank left, Gerard really starts to panic. He walks to the window, still feeling a bit faint and weak from the lack of blood, the adrenaline from his worrying the only thing keeping him upright. He looks out, trying to see any sign of Frank's car in the darkness, but there's nothing.

He picks up his phone again, dialling Frank's number with shaking fingers, feeling his heart drop when it doesn't even ring, just straight away tells him that Frank's phone has been turned off, or disconnected, or whatever.

Gerard doesn't know what to do; anything could've happened to Frank. He couldn't go to the store to try and find him; he didn't have a car and he didn't know if he'd even be able to make it out the front door without falling over, let alone make a ten minute walk.

 

Another hour passes, and maybe a couple more, Gerard isn't paying attention anymore at this point, but it's past midnight by now and he can feel the worry eating away at him like a physical thing. He tries calling Frank again for the hundredth time, but it just cuts out again as it has each time, so he calls Pete instead, trying not to sound too panicky.

"Hey," Pete says when he picks up, and he's out somewhere, Gerard can hear the background noise, almost as loud as Pete's voice.

"Pete, I don't know what to do, Frank's gone out because...because I needed blood and he...he hasn't come back and it's been hours and I don't know what to do," Gerard blurts out, words tumbling over one another and hopefully making some kind of sense.

"Wait," Pete says, and the background noise fades, "what happened?"

"Frank, he- he went out to get some blood, I hadn't...in a while...I was- I told him not to go, I told him it wasn't safe and it was only supposed to take twenty minutes but he left hours ago and he's still not back and his phone is off and I don't know- what if someone's hurt him? What if some vampires have found him? What if-"

"Gerard," Pete interrupts, "calm down, okay? Frank's probably fine."

"What if he isn't though? Oh god, this is all my fault, I shouldn't have let him go, I should've gone with him or I should've just fucking bitten him like he said, I was just too afraid of hurting him again but he could be _dead_ now instead because I was such a fucking idiot."

"Listen, I'm gonna come round with some blood before you fucking collapse."

"No, we need to find-"

"We need to make sure _you're_ okay first, then we can try find Frank."

 

Pete arrives not much later, with a bag full of more packets of blood than Gerard's seen at once before.

"I don't need-"

"Yeah, you fucking do," Pete says, looking him up and down, "you look like a fucking corpse, man."

"Thanks."

"Drink up," Pete says, handing over the bag.

"We need to find-"

"You need to drink that fucking blood, you won't be able to find anyone in this state."

"But-"

"Listen, I'll go to the store, okay? I'll see if I can find Frank, or see his car, or whatever, as long as you stay here and drink as much of that blood as you can."

"I need to come wi-"

"No, you don't," Pete says, insistent. "He'll be fine," he tells Gerard sincerely.

"I'm not- he can't die, not again," Gerard says, and now he understands what Mikey meant; this is shit, even the possibility of Frank dyino, and he'd been under the illusion that everything was perfect, everything would be fine, because Frank _came back_. But he knows Frank's going to die, whether it's today or in a years time or in fifty years time, he'd die eventually, and Gerard would be left the wreck that he always is, and he doesn't think he can go through that again, not after getting him back after so long, not after he's finally reached this level of honesty with Frank where he actually _knows_ everything, and even remembers bits and pieces.

"He won't," Pete says, and how completely and utterly sure of himself he sounds gives Gerard a tiny glimmer of hope, but it's hard to maintain even in the slightest; he knows who found Frank; he'd tried to keep Frank hidden from them from as long as he could, he didn't want them taking him like they'd taken Mikey when they realised how close they were, but of course they found out eventually, and now they'd gotten him and Gerard didn't want to think about what would happen to him now.

"I'll be back as quickly as I can," Pete says, "drink," he reminds Gerard, turning and going back out the door.


	30. Chapter 30

The door opens maybe half an hour after Pete had left, and Gerard had done what Pete said; he's sure he drank enough to fill almost two people, and he's kind of glad he didn't bite Frank. If he's still alive. If he isn't he'd have preferred anything to that.

Gerard springs up when he hears the door, feeling his worrying kick back in again - not that it had ever really gone away in the first place - and it feels like the few seconds it takes Pete to actually come into the apartment last forever, and Gerard wishes he could rush to the door, find out what happened, but he feels like he's frozen to the spot, filled with this all-consuming dread and fear that Pete's gonna tell him he found Frank's dead body in the store parking lot or that he's just nowhere to be seen. But then Pete's there, and he can see an arm hooked over his shoulder, covered in the tattoos Gerard knows far too well, and he feels his heart lift. Until he actually sees Frank, and it's dropping again just as quickly when he realises the state he's in.

"Frank..." Gerard gasps, going over to him quickly to help support him, seeing how much Pete's already struggling and how Frank can hardly stay upright. "Oh, god," he whispers, brushing his fingers gently across Frank's face, too afraid of hurting him to touch him properly, taking in the dark shadow around one eye, already darkening to the purple-blue of a fresh bruise, the cuts across his cheeks, the dried blood under his nose, some spreading onto his lips. "What happened?"

"Some fucking..." Frank says, wincing when he tries to keep moving, "vampires jumped me."

"Fucking hell, Frank," Gerard says, Frank not really having told him any more than he'd already guessed.

"Don't you dare fucking say I told you so," Frank says, managing a weak laugh, trying to smile up at Gerard, it coming out as more of a grimace.

"I said you shouldn't have gone," Gerard says, wanting to cry because Frank just keeps trying to fucking smile, acting as if he isn't wincing with every move.

"I know, fuck, sorry," Frank says, "Pete can really kick ass, though," he says, with another weak laugh, and a faint 'Fuck yeah' from Pete, now in the kitchen doing what sounds like making coffee. "I didn't think they'd actually-" Frank says, cutting himself off and shaking his head.

"Fuck," Gerard says, noticing the blood smeared all across Frank's neck, the two puncture marks hidden in the centre of it sending a surge of anger flowing through Gerard. "They didn't-" Gerard says, fingers brushing lightly over the marks, and Frank shakes his head, making Gerard sigh in relief, before pulling Frank into a hug.

"I'm gonna fucking kill them," Gerard says, holding Frank as tight as he can without hurting him.

"Gerard..." Frank says, and he sounds so weak that Gerard's heart just aches from seeing Frank like this. "Please, just-" he says, shaking his head against Gerard's shoulder, "I'm fine, now."

"They could've  _killed_  you, Frank."

"I'm surprised they didn't," Frank says, another laugh, this one sounding even more forced than the last two.

"What did they do?"

Frank just shakes his head again, not saying anything more, resting his forehead against Gerard's chest and taking deep, shaking breaths.

“I’m okay,” Frank says, more to himself than Gerard.

"No, you're not," Gerard says, pulling away ever so slightly to look at Frank, still making sure he's supporting him enough, "seriously, Frank."

Frank just looks up at Gerard for a moment, searching his eyes for something, and then his face suddenly just crumples, and he presses it into Gerard's shoulder, his breath hot against Gerard's chest.

"I was so scared, Gee," Frank says into his shoulder, his voice shaking, "I thought I'd never see you again. I thought they were going to kill me."

"You're safe now," Gerard says, his heart aching at hearing Frank trying to muffle his sobs in his shoulder, "I'm never gonna let them get anywhere fucking near you again, okay? I love you so much, Frankie."

"I love you too, Gee, please don't-" Frank says, shaking his head against Gerard's shoulder again, "please don't let them come back."

"They're not gonna get near you," Gerard reassures him, "come on, you need rest," he says, turning Frank and slowly supporting him and leading him back to their room.

 

Once they get into their room, Gerard moves to start helping Frank out of his clothes, and into something at least more comfortable that jeans, but Frank flinches away, holding the hem of his shirt down tightly where Gerard tried to pull it up, "I don't-" he starts, shaking his head.

"Okay," Gerard says, not wanting to push him at all, and instead helps him into the bed, going to turn and walk out of the room once he's in.

"Gerard," Frank says before he can walk out the door, "please stay," he says, not caring how much he sounds like a stupid, pathetic kid, because he can't help it, he doesn't want to be away from Gerard for one second, especially if it means getting their faces out of his mind, laughing at him while they stained his skin with blood and bruises and spitting out cruel words.

Gerard nods, looking like he's about to cry, and it only makes Frank feel guiltier for not listening to him in the first place, "I'll be back in a second, I'm just gonna get you some water and say bye to Pete."

"Okay," Frank says, still not looking all too happy about it, but going along with it anyway. 

 

"Is he okay?" Pete asks when Gerard comes in to the kitchen.

Gerard just shakes his head, half-shrugging as he pours out a glass of water, "What happened?"

"I found him in the parking lot, just round the side, there were three vampires there, they were beating the fucking shit out of him."

"Oh, god, I can't believe I let this happen."

"You didn't _let_ this happen, Gerard."

"Who was it, was it-"

"Those fucking dickheads in their stupid hats."

"I could kill them."

"One day," Pete says, almost with a sigh, "I think he's running, like, completely on adrenaline at the moment, he'll wake up tomorrow feeling like shit," he says, continuing on from earlier, "and I don't know if they said anything, or did something before I got there, but something really affected Frank."

"What do you mean?"

"When I found him, even after I'd scared off the guys that were there, he looked fucking terrified, like not just the kind of getting-beat-up-and-might-die kind of scared, because by that point it'd just be self-preservation and probably anger at those fucking dickheads, but he looked like his whole world was fucking crashing down around him."

Gerard feels his heart aching, and he wants nothing more to hug Frank for the rest of eternity until he's okay again, or to rip the heads off of those vampires.

"Try and talk to him once he's woken up tomorrow."

Gerard nods, and he and Pete say a quick goodbye, then he goes back, collecting the glass of water on the way, to the bedroom and Frank.

He expects to see him waiting, or something, but instead he's asleep, or at least trying to be, curled up into a tight ball on his side, and he looks so small and fragile that Gerard both wants to lock the two of them in the room forever so no one can hurt him again, and go out and kill every last vampire that even considered hurting him.

Gerard sets the glass down on Frank's bedside table, changing quickly before sliding into bed next to Frank, trying not to disturb him too much. But Frank moves anyway, not saying anything, but shuffling closer to Gerard, curling up against his side and balling up the side of his t-shirt in his hands, holding tightly on like he's a liferaft keeping him afloat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any disappointment over the fact that Frank isn't a vampire, but as much as I'd love for that to happen, I have some other things planned that work a lot better with Frank as a human, but I'm definitely not ruling anything out


	31. Chapter 31

Gerard wakes up sometime around midday, or maybe well into the afternoon, he doesn't really pay attention or bother checking the clock. Frank is still right next to him, holding on just as tightly as when they'd fallen asleep. Normally if they fell asleep like this, or something similar - Frank would never cling on like this normally - they'd wake up on opposite sides of the bed most of the time, or tangled up in the simultaneously the most comfortable and uncomfortable position ever, and the fact that Frank was still like this, not having moved away from Gerard in his sleep, broke his heart even more.

"Gerard?" Frank says out of nowhere, after Gerard had been awake for a few minutes, making Gerard jump; he thought Frank had been fast asleep still.

"Yeah?"

"Did I wake you up?" he asks, shifting slightly to look up at Gerard.

Gerard shakes his head, "I woke up a couple of minutes ago," he says.

Frank nods, laying his head back down, and Gerard thinks he's going to go back to sleep again, before he says, "They talked about you."

"What?"

"The vampires, th-they said things about you, when they were..." he says, trailing off.

"What did they say?" Gerard asks, worrying again; they could've lied about something about Gerard to make it sound worse, or just told the truth and it could've been just as bad, even though Gerard's told Frank pretty much everything, he still sure that Frank still doesn't realise how bad some of the things Gerard did were.

"They- they saw the scars," Frank says, "they were laughing at me, saying how you were just using me for my blood."

"Frank, you know I-"

"I know, but they...they  _knew_ you, Gerard. They kept saying how...how they could never get near you, especially since you'd started hanging out with Pete and everyone, and this was the only way for them to get to you. They said they'd keep me with them until you finally found me, a-and then they'd kill me in front of you before they'd finally get the chance to kill you," Frank says, his voice shaking, his hands tightening in Gerard's shirt.

"I'm not gonna let them get anywhere near you," Gerard says, wrapping both arms around Frank, pulling him tight against him.

Frank shakes his head against Gerard's chest, "Please don't go after them, they'll kill you."

"They were going to kill  _you_ , Frank, I can't just-" _  
_

"Please," Frank says, sounding so desperate that Gerard  _wants_ to promise he won't, he does, but he can't stand the thought of all those vampires still  _out there_ ; he'd already wanted to kill them enough before they went near Frank, after they'd turned Mikey, "They  _hate_ you, they...they told me what you'd done."

Gerard's stomach drops, because there's no  _way_ would Frank still want to be with him after knowing how many of people he'd killed, but he was still here, he was clinging onto Gerard, not flinching away from him, so maybe they didn't tell him everything.

"They turned Mikey, they-"

"I know," Frank says, "it's okay, they all fucking deserve it," he says, taking a deep, unsteady breath. "T-they kept saying how I wasn't important, I was just a...stupid human to you, that you only wanted me because of my blood, and you didn't actually care about me. I didn't want to listen, but I just- they wouldn't  _stop_  and I knew they wouldn't be doing this if they thought you didn't care, but-" Frank says, pausing again to take another deep breath, because he wanted to tell Gerard everything, but at the same time he just didn't want to  _remember_ ; it was like they had somehow found out every insecurity Frank had had about Gerard and had used them against him; how he didn't think he was good enough, or interesting enough, or attractive enough, for anyone, let alone  _Gerard._ How he didn't think Gerard would want to be with him when they both knew Frank was going to get old and eventually die, when Gerard would always look like his twenty-six year old self. How he was sure Gerard had loved other people more than him in the past, which had stopped for the most part when he'd found out that it was only  _him_ that Gerard had been with in the past, only to be replaced by the worry that Gerard must've gotten bored by now after being with him after so many years, or at least would soon. _  
_

"Frank," Gerard says, letting go of him to tilt his face up towards him, keeping him looking towards him with one hand, "I love you, more than  _anything_ in the world, you're the most important person to me, okay? I don't give a shit about your blood, and I'll  _always_ care about you."

Frank nods, looking like he's about to cry again, before dropping his head back down, pressing his face into Gerard's neck, "Sorry, I just-"

"It's okay," Gerard interrupts, before Frank can start up on some long apology that he doesn't need to give about how he shouldn't have doubted Gerard.

"I love you," Frank whispers into Gerard's neck, his breath brushing his skin.

 

The two of them eventually get out of bed a couple of hours later, once Gerard's made sure Frank's eaten and drunken enough so that he doesn't collapse when he tries to walk. He convinces him to shower eventually, when normally it would be the other way round, and Gerard' surprised at Frank's unwillingness to shower, especially considering how he's still covered in dried blood almost everywhere, and now their bed is too, but Gerard'll make sure to change the covers when Frank's distracted so he doesn't feel guilty over it.

"You have to get undressed to shower, you know," Gerard says, trying to laugh and sound lighthearted, and pretty much failing, because he's standing there just in his pajama bottoms waiting, with Frank looking uncomfortable, still in his jeans and t-shirt from the night before.

Frank nods slowly, avoiding looking Gerard in the eyes, then pulls his shirt off quickly, as if trying to get it over with, still avoiding eye contact as he starts working on his jeans, and Gerard tries to hold back his gasp because  _now_ he understands why he'd been so unwilling to take his shirt off before. Littered all across his chest and stomach are bruises of varying size and colour and Gerard feels another flash of anger towards the vampires that did this. There's a large, dark purple, almost black, bruise just below his ribs, and lots of smaller, paler bruises interspersed with the darker, more serious-looking ones.

"Frank..." Gerard says, wanting to reach out and touch him, comfort him, but now even more afraid of hurting him now he's seen the full damage they'd done.

"Gerard, please don't- please don't make a big deal of this."

"They did this to you, they could've  _killed_ you, they still could've seriously hurt you."

"I know, I just- I'll be fine, I just want to forget about it."

"Frank-" Gerard starts.

"Gerard," Frank interrupts, "please."

Gerard sighs, "Okay, yeah," he says, stripping off his pajama bottoms and following Frank into the shower.

"You don't have to help me, you know," Frank says, managing a weak smile at Gerard as he turns the water on, adjusting it to a decent temperature that's neither Arctic Ocean freezing or melt-your-skin-off hot.

"I don't care," Gerard says, gently nudging Frank under the stream of water, helping wipe of his neck, chest, face and hair, watching the blood pour down the drain.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while cause I was super busy and all over the country doing stuff but now I'm back and can (probably) do (fairly) regular updates!

"Am I gonna have to find out everything from Pete from now on?" Mikey asks, trying to resist rolling his eyes at the guilty look Gerard flashes him.

"I  _was_ gonna tell you, I was just kinda busy and then you called and Pete had already told you."

"Too busy to tell me Frank could be half-dead?"

"Too busy making sure Frank  _wasn't_ half-dead."

"'M not half-dead," Frank mumbles, from where the other two had  _thought_ he'd been asleep, lying across the sofa, his legs stretched across Gerard's lap.

"Tell that to the mirror," Mikey retorts.

"Shut up."

"Seriously though," Mikey says, "have you been to a hospital? You look like shit."

"Thanks."

Gerard sighs, "Trust me, I've been trying but he won't listen."

"I don't  _need_ to go to hospital." _  
_

"You do, have you  _seen_ what they've done to you, they-"

"Gerard," Frank interrupts, "I'm  _fine_."

"No, you're not," Gerard says; he'd kept worrying about Frank since Pete had brought him back a couple of days ago. It's not so much his physical health - though he's still definitely worried about that; he's sure Frank's at least broken a couple of ribs, judging by the way he winces whenever he takes a deep breath or sits in a position that puts too much pressure on them - but he's sure Frank hasn't gotten any sleep since it happened; he always seems to already be awake whenever Gerard wakes up, even if it's in the middle of the night, and he's just looking progressively more tired with each day and it's making Gerard more and more worried with each day.

"Mikey, please tell him I'm okay."

"Dude, you really don't  _look_ okay."

"It's not as bad as it looks."

"Yeah, sure, that's why you're always wincing whenever you move."

"I don't-"

"You should try and get some sleep," Gerard suggests, interrupting him before he can say a bunch of crap about how he's not in  _that_ much pain, and it's not as bad as it looks, and all the same stuff Gerard's heard hundreds of times already whenever he asks Frank if he's okay.

"I don't  _need_ to sleep, I've already slept tons," Frank says, not even sounding slightly convincing anymore.

"That's complete bullshit," Gerard says, "come on, you need to rest otherwise you'll never get better."

Frank groans in complaint, but still follows when Gerard pulls him up, trying and failing to cover up his wince and then avoiding the worried look Gerard gives him.

"I don't need more sleep," Frank says again when they get to their room.

"There is no 'more', you haven't even slept."

"I have, I-"

"Frank," Gerard says, before he can continue on with some excuse or lie, "I  _know_ you haven't been sleeping, something's up."

"It's fine, I'm- it's not- I'm sleeping enough."

"No you're not, I can see how tired you are, Frank, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's not...it doesn't matter."

"Frank."

"I'm okay, seriously," Frank says, finally looking up at Gerard and all Gerard can focus on is the dark circles under his eyes, the way they both look dark and sunken-in, "I'll be fine."

"You can tell me."

"I'm fine, don't worry."

Gerard frowns, biting his lip and deciding whether or not to try and push it or to leave it, "If you ever...you can talk to me, okay?"

Frank nods slowly, staying silent.

"Try and sleep, please," Gerard says, kissing Frank quickly after he nods again, before going back to Mikey in the living room.

 

"He's not gonna sleep," Gerard says when he comes back into the room, collapsing back down on the sofa in defeat.

"Why not?" Mikey asks.

"I don't know, he...he hasn't slept in days, but he won't talk to me, he won't even admit that he's not sleeping. I don't know if it's cause he's in too much pain or...or something else. I can't stop worrying about him."

"He'll be fine; he's strong, you know that. He can be tough."

"Only cause he has to be," Gerard says, "only cause he has a shit boyfriend that gets him into danger like this."

"Gerard-"

"This is my fault, if I'd listened to you and not gone round killing a bunch of vampires, he wouldn't have been hurt like this. They wouldn't even give a shit about him, let alone try and kill him."

"You know this isn't your fault, don't try and beat yourself up over it."

"It  _is_ my fault, if I wasn't- without me he wouldn't get hurt like this, he would be  _safe_."

"Just the other day you said you didn't give a shit about what could happen to  _you_  by being with Frank again, you said Frank was worth possibly getting depressed and suicidal  _again,_ why is this any different?"

"He doesn't- it's not- he doesn't deserve any of this, he doesn't deserve to get  _killed_."

"And you do?"

"I don't...I don't know, probably, I'm the one that caused all this shit."

"No, no fucking way, Gee, what happened with all those vampires wasn't your fault, you don't deserve to _die_ cause of it."

"I was completely aware of what I was doing, I knew it was stupid getting on the bad side of them and killing so many of them, and you had told me to stop, but I just didn't fucking listen and it's my  _fault_ and Frank would just be safer if I-"

"Don't even think about saying it, this isn't some fucking clichéd story where you try to be all honorable and break up with Frank to keep him safe."

"He  _will_ be safer, though, if-"

"You'll break his heart."

"It's- it's not like I'd  _want_ to do this, but if it means he's safe then-"

"No," Frank says from the doorway, making them both jump, "you're not- they wouldn't leave me alone just cause you pretend you don't care about me anymore, you...you can't- you're not gonna-"

"You'd be safer, Frank," Gerard says, getting up and going slowly over to him, "they're only doing this to get to me, to get back at me."

"They wouldn't stop just because you...you...ignore me, or cut me out of your life, or whatever. They'd still kill me, they'd still-"

Gerard shakes his head, closing the last couple of feet between them, taking both of Frank's hands between his own, "They're not gonna kill you, either way. I'm not gonna let them, if they come anywhere near you they're fucking dead."

"If you leave, they...they'll be able to get to me easier."

"They might leave you alone."

Frank shakes his head, ducking his head down to rest against Gerard's chest, leaning close into him, "They wouldn't," he says, barely above a whisper, "they...don't leave. Please, I don't care if you think I'll be safer, don't leave."


	33. Chapter 33

Gerard wakes up alone in his bed, he rolls over - where he would've normally accidentally hit Frank in the face or stomach and woken him up in a not-so-favourable way - a cold slap to the face in the middle of the night is never fun - instead he just ends up rolling across onto Frank's empty side of the bed, still somewhat warm from where he'd been lying in it.

"Frank?" Gerard mumbles, still half asleep and only registering the fact that Frank isn't there, and not much else.

He sits up, starting to wake up ever so slightly more as he rubs at his eyes, looking around the room to find it also empty, but he can now recognise the distant sounds of the coffee machine, and he has a moment of confusion, not being able to figure out if it's day or night still. He'd probably be feeling this tired either way.

Gerard climbs out of bed - slowly and reluctantly, because leaving the warmth of a bed is never something you do willingly - and goes out into the hallway, following the sounds - and now smell - of the coffee machine into the kitchen.

Frank's standing, facing away from Gerard and the door, and is just taking a first sip when Gerard comes through into the kitchen.

“Why’d you leave?" Gerard asks from the doorway, checking on the clock on the oven that it _definitely_ isn't anywhere near an appropriate time to wake up; it's not even close to sunrise yet, "Come back to bed, it's late."

Frank jumps slightly when he hears Gerard’s voice, but doesn’t turn to face him and relaxes again quickly. “Can’t sleep,” he says, shrugging.

“Coffee won’t really help with that,” Gerard tells him, moving up behind him and looping his arms around his waist, resting his chin on Frank’s shoulder.

Frank shrugs again, stiffening slightly under Gerard’s touch, almost putting him off and making him want pull away again.

“What’s up?” he asks, turning Frank round in his arms to face him, instantly noticing the red rimming Frank’s eyes and the dark circles underneath that have been only getting worse with each day since what had happened. “Frank, what’s wrong?”

Frank shakes his head, “Nothing, I’m fine. Just can’t sleep.”

“Bullshit. You wouldn’t be drinking coffee if you couldn’t sleep.”

“I just...don’t want to sleep. Coffee helps; I'm too tired.”

“Why not? What’s wrong?”

Frank sighs, avoiding Gerard’s eyes, "It's stupid, it doesn't matter."

"It _does_ matter, you haven't slept in days, _something's_ up," Gerard says, regretting not asking Frank about this sooner; he'd already noticed his complete and utter lack of sleep, it would probably be obvious even without sharing a bed with him, just by looking at the dark circles under his eyes. "Are you in pain still? I can take you to the hospital if it's that bad, Frank."

"No, no," Frank says, shaking his head, still looking down and away from Gerard, "it's not that bad, it's just-" he pauses, shaking his head again, "it's silly, I'm just...fucking overreacting, it's not a big deal. They're just stupid dreams."

"What dreams?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Frank-"

Frank shakes his head again, looking down at his hands, bring them up to play with the material at the hem of Gerard's shirt, “Every fucking time I close my eyes, they’re there. I can’t- I can’t deal with these nightmares, it's stupid and I'm just...I'm just overreacting, no one gets fucking nightmares from just being like...mugged or beaten up on the street. I just want them to get _out_ of my head," he finishes, bunching up the material of Gerard's shirt in his fists, and Gerard can see - and feel - his hands shaking.

“Frank,” Gerard says sadly, “you should’ve woken me up.”

“I didn’t want you to worry about me; they’re just silly dreams, it doesn’t matter.”

“It _does_ matter,” Gerard says, moving closer to Frank, "you're not overreacting, what happened, that- it wasn't just like some guys attacking and mugging you, they almost _killed_ you, and they threatened to do all that shit...I don't blame you for being scared, Frank. Please tell me next time, though. I can help."

Frank shakes his head, dropping it down against Gerard's chest, "I just want them to _stop_ ," he says, tightening his fists in Gerard's shirt.

"It's gonna be fine," Gerard says, wrapping his arms around Frank's back, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"I don't...I dunno."

"Come on," Gerard says, stepping back and taking one of Frank's hands - which was still holding tight onto his shirt - and leading him back to their room, sitting down on the bed and pulling Frank with him. Gerard shuffles back on the bed, leaning back on the headboard and watching Frank follow, lying against his side.

"They're gonna kill you," Frank says, after a few minutes of silence, Gerard not knowing whether or not to start talking first.

"What do you-"

"They kept saying it over and over, they were gonna kill you. They were...so fucking determined and I don't...they can't kill you, Gerard, you can't die."

"They've tried before," Gerard says, trying to sound reassuring, "they've never managed to kill me."

"They kept telling me all these different ways they'd kill you; how they'd make sure that you'd hurt and that you'd get to watch me die. Every time I try to sleep I see them killing you in each different way and I can't...I can't stand it, I just-"

"Frank," Gerard interrupts, wishing he knew how to comfort people better, and how to get Frank to calm down or relax, hating how tense he felt next to him. "I'm here, they can't kill me, okay?"

"They're going to," he says, turning on his side and holding onto Gerard's shirt again, "what if...what if they'd planned this," he says, and Gerard can see him frowning from the small part of his face he can actually see from his angle.

"What do you mean?"

"What if they weren't going to kill me? What if they were gonna let me go, or like...pretend I'd managed to get away, so that you'd come and then they'd get the chance to kill you?"

"I doubt they'd think stuff through that much," Gerard says to try and help Frank stop worrying, but now that he's said it, Gerard can't help but worry that he's right, because it's all too much of a possibility, and Gerard knows that this should probably put him off going after them, but just one look at Frank and what they've done to him brings back all the anger against them and he's more than willing to kill every single one of them, and, looking down at Frank then, seeing his shirt tight in Frank's hands, the now mostly green bruises all up his arms, he decides that he couldn't care less if Frank's right or not, if this is some elaborate plan they thought out so they could finally get the chance to kill him, because he's gonna kill them before any of them get the chance.


	34. Chapter 34

The next day, Gerard makes sure Frank stays in bed, because he wants to make sure he actually gets some sleep now, and he can't help but feeling like a worried parent when he ends up checking on him every ten minutes or so to make sure he's actually asleep and he's still okay. Gerard's more than relieved when Pete and the others show up and manage to distract him from worrying about Frank too much.

They're all talking about nonsense, really. After they'd talked about what had happened to Frank for a bit - Pete changing the topic quickly when it started moving onto the vampires that attacked Frank and he realised how pissed of Gerard was looking, like he was about to start planning his revenge plot right then and there the more he heard about them - they just moved onto pointless, trivial things, and Gerard felt somewhat relieved to just think about nothing for once - except his underlying worrying for Frank and the urge to check on him again. Gerard started drifting back out of the conversation, instead just watching the other four talk, and he soon noticed the distance between Pete and Patrick that he hadn't spotted at first when he'd been distracted by the conversation; normally they'd be sitting right next to each other and sharing separate conversations between themselves, but now they're sitting on opposite sides of the room, Pete being not-so-subtle with his staring at Patrick, and Patrick trying to avoid looking at him and, whenever they did end up making eye contact, making sure to look away quickly.

Patrick stands up when he catches Pete's eye again, leaving the room with some excuse of getting a drink, and Gerard follows, ignoring the questioning looks from everyone else.

"Okay, what the hell is going on between you and Pete?" Gerard asks, making sure the door's closed behind them so no one else - especially Pete - overhears.

"What do you mean?" Patrick asks, avoiding looking at Gerard, "Me and Pete...there's nothing between me and Pete."

"You're such a bad liar."

"Nothing's happened, I swear," Patrick says, putting his hands up in mock-surrender.

"You guys are acting weird around each other and he won't stop staring at you and you're just avoiding looking at him as much as you can, there's definitely something up."

"Nope, nothing up."

"I won't tell Pete you told me."

Patrick frowns, chewing on his lip, hesitating before saying, "He tried to kiss me."

Gerard is taken aback, he can't deny that, and he stays in stunned silence for a few seconds, because he didn't think Pete would get up the courage to make any kind of move on Patrick for _years_ , if ever. "What do you mean 'tried'?"

"He...he was gonna kiss me, and I- I stopped him."

"Okay, there's no way you can deny that you like him back because you two are so _obvious_ about it, it's just reached a point where it's annoying that you two aren't together yet, so _why the hell_ didn't you kiss him back, or let him kiss you, or whatever?"

"He...it's not...I _do_ like him," Patrick starts, looking down at his feet and avoiding Gerard's eyes again.

"I know that much."

"It just...wouldn't work."

"Why not?"

"He's Pete, he'll pretend he's totally fine with the fact that I'm human, I mean, I don't even _want_ to be a vampire, and he wouldn't turn me even if I _did_ want it, but he'll act like he's okay with the fact that I'm gonna get old and die while he stays young and immortal forever."

"Of course he won't _like_ knowing that one day you're going to die, no one would, but I bet Pete doesn't even give a shit about you ageing."

"What about when I'm 80, though, and can hardly walk or I'm in a wheelchair or something and look like a freaking dinosaur and he's still looking like he's in his 20s, that's not- he wouldn't want to be with me then, but he's just not selfish enough to leave me because of that and I just...I don't want to put him through that."

“Have you told him this?”

“I didn’t- I didn’t really tell him anything.”

“So you just let him think that you don’t like him back?”

“If I tell him the real reason then he’ll just convince me to change my mind.”

“Exactly. And if you don’t tell him the real reason he’ll just be heartbroken and hate himself because he thinks he messed up your friendship.”

"I don't want to mess it up or make him think it's his fault, but I...I can't put him through that when he's not shallow enough to leave me when I'm old."

"Because he won't _care_ that you're gonna get old."

"I'm gonna die, though, and he's not."

"It's still gonna kill him when you die, regardless of whether you two are a couple or still just really, weirdly close friends still."

Patrick sighs, "I know, I just-"

"Why don't you talk to him?" Gerard interrupts, "You guys can figure this out."

"I don't know...it's easier to just...leave it."

"You've got to at least tell him what's up."

"How? I don't know how to say it without him being able to contradict my worries straight away."

"That's cause your worries are stupid and not a good enough reason for you two not to be together."

"Has Frank ever gotten that old?"

"The oldest he's been is maybe, like, 50 or something. Life expectancy's improved a lot over the past century."

"See, fifty isn't even that old, you've never seen him get to old age and get something like Alzheimer's, I don't want to put Pete through anything like that, me forgetting who he is every day or him having to help me with every single thing."

"Trust me, I'd much rather watch Frank grow old and develop as many problems as old people can get, I don't give a shit if I'd have to push him round in a wheelchair with an oxygen tank and remind him of my name and why I look 60 years younger than him every five minutes, as long as I don't have to watch him die so young again, before he even gets the chance to have a proper fucking life."

Patrick keeps frowning, opening his mouth as if to say something and then shutting it again, continuing to frown.

"Look, you don't even know if you guys will make it that long," Gerard says, and this probably isn't a good way to convince Patrick to give it a chance with Pete, but it's worth a go."You could be a terrible couple," he says, and he knows the likelihood of that is probably about one in a million just by seeing the way Pete and Patrick are together as friends, "you could end up breaking up within a week and deciding you were better off as friends, and then staying friends until you're old and half-way to a skeleton instead of dating. You just might as well give it a try."

Patrick sighs, "I didn't even _know_ he liked me until he tried to kiss me, I didn't think this would ever be a problem...I just thought it was some stupid crush I'd gotten on my best friend, I didn't think that...I don't know."

"I don't know how you _didn't_ realise Pete liked you, he was so blatantly obvious without even realising it."

Patrick shrugs, "I don't know...I guess...I don't know."

"Please say you'll at least talk to him about this instead of just letting him think you rejected him cause you don't like him."

"I'll talk to him, I don't know if anything will happen or if we'll...I don't know, but I'll talk to him."


	35. Chapter 35

Frank's nightmares got worse before they get better; before he actually spoke to Gerard, he'd just avoid sleeping, drinking several cups of coffee throughout the night to keep him from falling asleep, but now Gerard that knew, he made sure he'd actually sleep before he ended up completely wearring himself out, so he couldn't avoid the nightmares anymore. Gerard was more aware of Frank at night now, though, and he'd end up waking up with the slightest movement from Frank, so he was always there to calm him down when he woke up, out of breath and terrified.

 

“You said…when vampires sleep, in the day, it’s like a coma, right?” Frank asks one morning, sitting on their bed, when Gerard comes back into their room after showering, having refused to leave the room for at least ten minutes in the first place when Frank was woken up by a nightmare just before Gerard was about to get up to shower; Frank calmed down quickly - the nightmares weren't as bad anymore as they had been at first - but it still took him forever to convince Gerard that he was actually okay and that he could go and shower.

“Yeah…?” Gerard says, looking confused, rubbing the towel against his damp hair.

“So you don’t dream?”

Gerard sighs, realising what Frank's getting at, “Frank-”

“You can’t have nightmares?”

“Frank, you can’t just ask me to turn you to get rid of these nightmares. They've already started to get better.”

“It’s not just that, though. I _want_ you turn me. I’ve thought it over and over in my head, asking myself if I really want this, and I do. Before the nightmares started, before they took me.”

“I’m not going to turn you, Frank.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t want to be a vampire.”

“How do you know?” Frank asks, “You can’t decide for me what I do or don’t want.”

“I know this, though,” Gerard says, sure of himself, “And I don’t know what’ll happen to you if you become a vampire.”

“What do you mean? I’ll be a vampire, that’s pretty much all there is to it. That's the whole point.”

“If you die, though. I don’t know if you’ll come back. I can’t lose you forever.”

“But I have to lose you, don’t I?” Frank asks, voice forceful, “Sure, you’ll get me back at some point when I die, I’ll come back again and you’ll be all happy with him,” Frank says, deliberately referring to any future reincarnations of himself as someone else, and Gerard can tell Frank's thought about this before, “but I don’t get to spend forever with you, Gerard. I know it seems like I do, because, sure, it’s still me you’re with. But it won’t be _me_. You said so yourself, this time is different.”

“I know, but-”

“You might not lose me,” Frank says, “but I’ll lose you. I’ll lose all my memories of this life, even of other lives, the memories I’ve gotten back. It won’t be this me that you get back however many years after I die.”

“It will be though, it’s always you.”

“It isn’t. I don’t, ugh, I don’t even know how to explain this,” Frank says. “Yeah, it’s me. I look the same, act the same, whatever. But it’s not me, this me. It’s not like when I die I’m just gonna get to go to sleep and wake up in a bit, then get to meet you all over again. When I die, I die, and I lose you, even if you don’t lose me, and I’m terrified, Gerard. I don’t want to die, especially knowing that you’ll get to live on happily with someone else, even if that someone else is still me."

“Frank-” Gerard says, sitting down on the edge of the bed and reaching out a hand in an attempt to comfort him.

"It's like, imagine if you knew at some point there was gonna be an accident, and you didn't know when, but it was definitely going to happen, and you'd get amnesia from it, and you knew for definite that you'd never get your memories back. It would feel like you're dying, and I'd live on with you still, but it wouldn't be _you_. Does that make sense?"

"Kind of, but-"

"It feels like I'll be a different person," Frank interrupts, "like, okay, I might start getting my memories back again, now that it's started happening, it could happen again, but it still won't feel like _me_ ; I've been getting back all these memories from past lives but it still doesn't feel like it was me, it just feels like memories from, like, I don't know, a TV show or whatever. It doesn't feel like I've lived it, and maybe it will eventually, but I don't know."

“Do you really want to lose this too?” Frank continues, “You know that this time is different. I look the same, you said I look just like I did when you first met me, I remember things, I trigger memories, or whatever, in you, so you remember things, too. You’ve actually told me about everything, this time. You’ve drank my blood. This is different, Gerard, we couldn’t figure it out before, but maybe this is because I’m not supposed to die this time. Maybe you’re supposed to turn me.”

“No one’s ‘supposed’ to do anything,” Gerard says, “I don’t want to lose this, either, Frank, you have no idea how much better it feels to be able to talk to you about everything, to not have this huge secret hanging over my head, and every time you die it still crushes me just as much, even if I know I’m going to find you again in a couple of decades. I don’t want you to die, that’s the last thing I want, but I don’t want you to be forced into this life just to stay with me.”

“It’s not that, I want this, Gerard.”

"It's..." Gerard says, sighing, "this is a huge decision."

"That's why I didn't tell you it was something I was considering until I was 100% sure I wanted and I had no doubts in my mind."

"Something could go wrong, you could end up dying instead of becoming a vampire."

"It'll be fine," Frank says, "I'll be fine."

"Can we, just...I don't know," Gerard says, "I need time to think about this."

"Okay," Frank agrees, relieved he at least got Gerard to think about it rather than an outright no.

 

“I could just ask Pete or Mikey, you know," Frank says a couple of days later, already getting impatient waiting for Gerard to bring it up again.

“Pete would never turn anyone,” Gerard says.

“Why not?”

“He spent like the first year after getting turned obsessing over killing the guy that turned him, he’d never do that to anyone. He’s accepted it now, sure, and acts like he’s fine with it by taking advantage of being a vampire in every way possible, but he still wants to kill that fucker’s ass.”

"I could ask Mikey."

"Mikey knows I'd kill him."

Frank sighs, admittedly over-exaggerating it.

"I wouldn't be able to bite you anymore, you know," Gerard says.

"You don't bite me anymore anyway, since you..."

Gerard sighs instead now, "Yeah," he says, and he's still not willing to bite Frank again, so he doesn't know how he'd feel comfortable turning Frank, especially when you need to take more blood to turn someone, enough that it would kill them without the vampire blood. He's worried he'd end up doing something wrong, and then it would be his fault that Frank died.

"You'd have to drink my blood," he says, "vampire blood's probably really gross," he adds, which is complete bullshit, because Gerard still remembers being turned - it's not the kind of thing you'd forget - and he's sure if he wasn't scared shitless and trying to escape, he would've enjoyed it, at least, the second part, not the part where he was practically drained of blood - that was just painful and terrifying - and could almost feel himself slowly, or not so slowly, dying, and more the part where the vampire that turned him gave him his blood, and it was completely different to drinking from a human - not that Gerard knew that at the time - vampire blood was more bitter, and thinner, but it was like he could feel it filling him with life, and could physically feel the new predatory strength and speed, and his senses heightening. Until he passed out.

"You're not gonna put me off just by that, it's a tiny part compared to the hundreds of years I'll get to live after it."

Gerard sighs again, "I still need to think about it."

 

“What would you do if I asked you to turn me?” Frank asks Mikey when he calls him later that week, not even bothering to slowly introduce the idea, or even say hello, just going straight for it. He'd been thinking about this for weeks and weeks; he even had a slight curiosity about it before Gerard had told him about the reincarnation, but now that he's actually told Gerard that this is what he wants, he feels much more impatient about it, and can hardly wait for Gerard to come up with some kind of decision.

“Hello to you too, Frank," Mikey says, and Frank can be sure that he's rolling his eyes, "and I’d say I’d rather not die at my own brother’s hands.”

“He doesn’t have to know.”

“You can’t really hide the fact that you’re a vampire, Frank.”

“I don’t mean that part, I mean, like, he doesn’t have to know that it was you that turned me.”

“He’d know, trust me. I’d be dead before I even got anywhere near your throat. Have you talked to him about this?”

“I tried, he said no, well, maybe, sort of; he’s afraid of what’ll happen if I become a vampire, and whether or not I’ll come back or not if I die, or that something will go wrong and I'll die while he's trying to turn me.”

“Ah,” Mikey says, and Frank can hear the sympathy in his voice, “he’s just scared; when he was turned there were like twenty other people that the vampire had tried to turn, but he was the only one that actually survived. He doesn't trust the turning process, even if the reason that all those people died was probably because that guy was trying to rush, and he'd completely lost it. And he’s lost you so many times, I don’t know what would happen if he lost you for good. Has he told you about not being able to find you for however many years?”

“Yeah, he told me everything that happened, and that’s why you two fought.”

“You weren’t there, though, Frank. He was a mess, he couldn’t stand the thought of never getting to see you again, he- have you seen his scar?”

“The one-?” he asks, pointing to himself where the scar would be on Gerard, then realising that Mikey can't see him, continues, "below his ribs?"

“Yeah, has he told you what happened?”

“I asked him about it when I first saw it, when we first started dating, but he didn’t want to, yet, anyway.”

“It’s not my story to tell, but ask him about it. It's..." Mikey starts, pausing for a second and thinking, "just ask him about it."


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Certain parts of this were inspired by Being Human and certain parts were also written drunk (though I did go back through and correct everything sober), just as a warning.

"If you're gonna ask me about turning you again, I still need to think about it," Gerard says when he hears Frank come up behind him in the kitchen, pulling his arm until he turns around to face him.

"It's not...I do have something to ask, but it's not about that," Frank says, and Gerard doesn't say anything, but waits for him to continue.

"What..." Frank starts, pushing one hand up under his shirt, bringing it to rest over Gerard's scar, feeling the uneven skin there, the warmth of his hand spreading through Gerard's cold skin quickly, "what happened with your scar?"

"Frank..." Gerard says, looking reluctant, "I- it's complicated."

"Everything that's happened to you is complicated," Frank says. "I didn't think vampires would even be able to scar."

"We don't, normally."

"So what happened?"

Gerard sighs, "I wasn't well," he starts, "my mental health's never been...great," he says, "and when you died in the war it didn't really help that."

"I died for you," Frank says suddenly, looking up at Gerard with shocked, amazed eyes, "I...we were fighting in World War II."

"You remember?"

"It's kind of...faint, but sort of, yeah," Frank says, "I died for you and you would've survived being shot, wouldn't you?"

Gerard nods, slowly, and Frank laughs lightly, dropping his head against Gerard's shoulder and shaking his head, "I'm such an idiot."

"You didn't know I was a vampire," Gerard says, in Frank's defence. 

"Yeah, I guess," Frank says, "so I didn't come back after that? Until now."

"Well, you might've and I just didn't find you, but I don't know. I thought it had triggered something, you dying for me, and that you were dead for good after that."

Frank nods, looking up at Gerard sadly; he hates how much Gerard has been through just because of Frank dying, and it makes him want Gerard to turn him even more so that it can't happen again.

"I was in such a bad place," Gerard continues, "I did all those things, killed all those people... Mikey kept trying to stop me, like I'd told you, but it was like I was completely fucking oblivious to any kind of logic. I think, at one point, I finally realised what the hell I was actually doing, and how dangerous I'd become. I had...I'd killed this girl, and I saw her on TV, the news anchors announcing her disappearance, and then they had a fucking interview with her parents..." Gerard says, and Frank wants to comfort him, somehow, but he doesn't know how, and just settles for wrapping his arms around him, low on his waist, loose enough so he can still look up at him but tight enough to comfort him. "I watched her parents fucking beg for her to be found when just five minutes before I'd been trying to get her fucking blood out of my shirt.

"That's what kind of broke me, and I realised what I'd been doing, and the effect it had been having on everyone around the people I killed and I wasn't just feeding and hooking up with people, I was _killing_ people," Gerard says, "and it's not the...greatest realisation; I got obsessed with it, I found out the names of everyone I'd killed, and was reading all the articles about them going missing, or finding their bodies, what their friends and family had said, how it had affected everyone. I just realised how bad of a fucking person I was, and I felt... _dangerous_ , like it was only a matter of time before I ended up killing someone else, and I couldn't fucking stand it.

"I talked to Mikey, told him everything, and he tried to reassure me that I _was_ a good person, that it wasn't my fault I'd done all those things, but it _was_. Just...just because you died, that doesn't excuse the fact that I was fucking _killing_ people. I told Mikey I knew I'd end up doing it again, it was the only way I could get out this _anger_ about your death, about you not coming back, it was like a drug, but the consequences were so much worse. I _wish_ it had been drugs or alcohol. Instead of fucking _murder_ ," Gerard says, spitting the word out with a hatred that Frank knows is only directed at himself, and _God_ , he wishes he had some control over this, could go back and stop himself from disappearing for 70 years, could save Gerard from having gone through this. "I asked Mikey to...do something, but..."

"What did you-?" Frank starts, knowing Gerard won't say anything without prompting, and knowing he needs to get Gerard to open up about this; he needs to talk to someone about whatever happened, and probably needs to talk to Mikey, too.

"I wanted him to kill me," Gerard says, blunt and quick, and Frank can't help but tighten his grip around him, hating having to think of the prospect of Gerard dying; _Frank_ was the one who was supposed to die, not Gerard. "I didn't trust myself anymore, and I didn't want to do more harm than I'd already done, and I just didn't want to have to _deal_ with it anymore, the pain of knowing you'd probably never be coming back, with the added guilt of all the people I'd killed.

"Mikey wouldn't do it, he didn't care that I didn't think I was safe to the people around me, he knew he could help and try and get me to stop, but I couldn't...I was a mess, I couldn't stand the thought of having to keep going. I had a stake, I was going to get him to use that...but when he wouldn't, I was so _desperate_ , I-" Gerard says, taking a deep breath, "I aimed for my heart, that's the only way to instantly kill a vampire with a stake, but Mikey tried to stop me. The stake still went in, deep, I'm surprised it didn't come out the other side, but it missed my heart, and got me-"

"-just below the ribs," Frank finishes for him, bringing one hand back round under Gerard's shirt to feel the scar, the skin feeling even more damaged now that he knew what had happened.

"I might've ended up dying, I don't know how it works when you don't get it right through the heart, but I lost a lot of blood; Mikey gave me some of his, I tried to stop him, but he was fucking adamant. It's probably what stopped me from dying, in the end. I hated him for it at first."

"Gee..." Frank says, at a complete loss for any other words.

"Mikey thought..." Gerard continues, "once I was okay, maybe I'd finally  _stop_ , but it was just as bad as before, I just killed more vampires than people, but I...I'm sorry, Frank, I can't loose you like that again."

"I'm gonna die one day, Gee, if it's in a year from an accident, or in 60 from old age, it'll happen. Just promise me you won't let that happen again,  _please_ , I can't- you can't die like that."

"Frank, I can't-"

"Please, Gerard, it'll happen and-"

"I don't want to think about you dying."

"You know," Frank says, smirking ever-so-slightly, "there's one way to stop from ever having to think about me dying."

Gerard lets out a short laugh despite the left-over sadness in his eyes, shaking his head, "I love you so much, Frank, but, fuck, you can be stubborn."

"I know," Frank says, beaming up at Gerard as he bends down to kiss him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I uploaded a one-shot earlier so you should all check it out [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4605990)


	37. Chapter 37

"You know, between all of us we have, like, 14 hands, and yet 12 of them are useless cause you guys are all too lazy to get up and would rather just leave me to carry all the coffee in," Pete complains, putting down the four mugs he'd managed to carry at once on the coffee table.

"Well, you have, like, supernatural vampire strength," Joe says, "so that makes it easier."

"I don't think that really affects anything," Pete says, "besides, there's Mikey and Gerard."

"I can't really help, I'm stuck," Gerard says.

"Frank could move," Pete shrugs.

"No I can't," Frank says, emphasising his point by shifting closer against Gerard's chest, as if he wasn't close enough to him already, sitting sideways on his lap with his legs stretched out across the rest of the sofa, kicking Mikey not-so-accidentally from time to time, and Mikey looks like he's about to push Frank onto the floor with the next kick. "I'm stuck here," he says, grinning over at Pete, who just rolls his eyes.

"I wouldn't trust Mikey with more than one drink at a time, either," Gerard says, "unless you want to buy some new mugs."

"I'm not  _that_ clumsy," Mikey protests, "I just-"

"-make bad decisions," Gerard finishes for him, "you'd probably just think it's a good idea to try and stack the mugs while they're all full of coffee."

"Shut up," Mikey says, and Gerard knows it's because he's right, while Pete just sighs, rolling his eyes again and going back to the kitchen for the rest of the coffee.

"Are you feeling better, Frank?" Patrick asks, "After..."

Franks hums in response, resting his head against Gerard's shoulder, and Gerard loves this; the casual but constant contact that he and Frank had been keeping up lately, since Frank had been attacked and Gerard had told him about his scar, and they'd talked about the possibility of Gerard turning Frank in any spare moment when Frank brought it up, as if the idea of losing either one of them had brought them closer together - at least physically - and left them both with almost a calm desperation, and a complete willingness to be as close to one another whenever they could be, feeling like one of them could be taken away at any moment. Gerard knows it'll probably wear off soon enough, when they finally realise that neither of them are dying anytime soon, so Gerard's just going to make the most of it, especially the mindless touching Frank had started almost subconsciously, which Gerard hopes would keep going. It's not like Frank wouldn't touch him before - he'd always lace their fingers together every now and then or cuddle up to Gerard whenever they were watching a movie - but it seemed like now Frank always wanted some kind of contact; he'd start playing with Gerard's hair, or trace patterns on any of Gerard's available skin, or leave small kisses across his arms or neck, without any second intent, at least, most of the time, anyway.

"My ribs still hurt like a motherfucker," Frank says, "and now I'm, like, completely green and yellow everywhere, but I'm cool," he finishes, and Gerard laces their fingers together, not being able to help but want the extra contact, even though they probably already have plenty.

"We're gonna try find those vampires," Pete says, coming back into the room with the other three mugs of coffee, "finally fucking wipe them out."

"Except they're way more likely to wipe  _us_ out when there's only four of us," Andy says.

“I’ll come,” Frank says, without any kind of hesitation.

“What? No,” Gerard says just as quickly, his grip subconsciously tightening on Frank’s hand.

"I wanna kill those three fucking vampires that beat me up."

"They'll kill you, Frank, before you even get the chance."

"I'll be fine," Frank says, but Gerard shakes his head, standing up and practically picking Frank up to get him up too, then leading him back to Gerard's old bedroom - so they could talk privately - which is now all but empty except for his old bed, which he didn't really need anymore, so he had just left it behind in case Pete actually ever did get a new roommate, which he doubts. Unless Patrick counts.

"Look," Gerard says once the door's shut and they're alone, "I wish I could rip all of their fucking heads off for what they did to you, did to Mikey, but if it means keeping you alive and safe, I'd leave them alone."

"Pete and Andy and everyone know what they're doing, I'd be fine. I can so kick their asses."

"Frank, these are...they're  _dangerous_ people. Even the others have never been able to beat them before, and they've probably collectively killed even more vampires than me."

"Why don't they have any crazy vampires trying to fucking kill them and everyone they know, then?"

"They were smarter and way more strategic about it than me, rather than just killing any vampires for the sake of it, they'd take down groups of vampires at a time, so there were none left over to plan revenge against you for killing all their friends."

"You've still killed tons of them, though, and they kept trying to kill you, too, but they've never succeeded."

" _I_  was dangerous then, too. I just don't want you getting hurt again, or _killed_."

"If you turned me..."

"Frank."

"I'm not gonna be able to sleep until they're dead, I can't stop thinking about them coming back and killing you, or both of us."

Gerard sighs, and he wishes he could just make everything  _okay_ , without any of this complicated crap. But, then, he also wishes he could kill every last one of those fucking vampires, but he knows if he tries to go anywhere near them then he'll just end up getting himself and anyone with him killed, so he's trying his best to resist the temptation. "You don't want the guilt of killing people."

"These people, if they can even be called that, don't deserve to fucking live. I won't feel guilty over killing them."

"You don't know that, it's-"

"Gerard," Frank interrupts, "I'll be fine."

Gerard sighs, "You're not gonna change your mind on this, are you?"

"Nope."

“Fine, I'm coming too then," Gerard says, because this could be risking his life, but there's noway he's letting Frank go without him to at least try and protect him.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's dedicated to [ domebedward](http://archiveofourown.org/users/domebedward) because they came up with the awesome name of "death posse".

“No way, you can't go; they’ll _kill_ you, they _hate_ you. You know that,” Frank says, his eyes wide.

“Not if we kill them all first.”

“Gerard, you can’t, please.”

“I’m harder to kill than you. You're not gonna stay behind and if anything happened to you and I wasn’t there…”

“They know how to kill vampires, though!” Frank exclaims, his eyes full of worry.

“There’s no way I’m letting you go if I’m not coming. I want to kill them all just as much as you do; they _attacked_ you, they did all those…those horrible things to you, they turned Mikey, they almost _killed_ him, they almost killed _you_. I’m coming, too.”

Frank sighs, chewing his lip, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’ll be fine, I want to make sure you don’t get hurt.”

Frank sighs again, thinking more, his brow furrowed in thought, “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid when I die, don’t get on the bad side of any more vampires.”

“You’re not gonna die.”

“I don’t mean now, with the vampires, I just mean…in general, when I die.”

Gerard nods, “I’m not gonna let you die.”

“Does that mean you’ll-” Frank starts, letting himself trail off.

“I don’t know,” Gerard says, honestly, “maybe, I haven’t- I still need to think about it. A lot.”

"Okay, yeah," Frank says, not wanting to push it too much.

"I just- yeah, I need to think," Gerard says, "but I'm coming, to make sure you actually fucking live long enough for me to be able to decide whether or not to turn you."

"This could be a trick, though," Frank says, "it could've all just been to get you there so they can kill you," he says, and Gerard wishes he hadn't reminded him of that idea; he knows it's probably right, and that's exactly why he wants to ignore it before he convinces himself out of going.

"It doesn't matter," Gerard says, "I'm going with you."

Frank sighs, "I guess with more of us it'll be less likely for any of us to die. Well, there's like the whole probability shit like because there's more of us then there's a higher chance at least one gets killed, but then we've got more people to protect each other. And two vampires. Three, if Mikey comes."

"No way is Mikey coming."

 

"I'm coming," Mikey says when they both go back out there and tell them they're both coming.

"Seriously?" Gerard says, "You two are the only people they know I'm close with and you both want to go?"

"If you're going, I'm going," Mikey says, shrugging, and Gerard just sighs, not even bothering to protest further like he had with Frank; Frank can be stubborn, sure, but once Mikey's made up his mind, there's nothing that'll change it.

"Yes," Pete says, "we've got a motherfucking death posse now."

Joe laughs, "If by death posse you mean we'll all probably be dead by the end of this then, yeah, you're right."

"No, it means we're gonna kick their asses. And I’m gonna kill that fucking dick with his fucking fur shawl and stupid fucking white bowler hat,” Pete says, a look of determination in his eyes.

"Who?” Frank asks.

“He’s the leader of their little vampire gang thing; he's the one that turned Pete," Patrick says.

"So, Pete will probably kill us if we kill him instead of letting him kill him," Joe says.

"I'm sure you could've worded that better, but yeah, pretty much," Pete says.

"What if he's about to kill us, and we have the opportunity to kill him and he'll otherwise kill us?"

"Stab him in the leg or something," Pete says, shrugging.

"So when are we going?" Frank asks, changing the topic, starting to look excited now.

Joe shrugs, "We hadn't even planned anything yet, we were just thinking about it."

"You're gonna have to learn some stuff," Andy says, "so you can actually do some kind of damage instead of just standing and watching."

"Frank especially," Patrick says.

"Why me especially?"

"Well, Gerard and Mikey kind of have the vampire speed and strength and stuff," Patrick explains.

"Gerard can handle himself pretty well," Mikey says, "he has more experience," he smirks at Gerard, who just rolls his eyes.

"Except I can't use weapons for shit."

"We fought in a fucking war," Mikey says, "you had plenty of training for that."

Gerard shrugs, "That was, like, 70 years ago though."

"It'll probably come back to you," Patrick says, "we don't have many guns, anyway."

"Yeah," Pete says, "they're not very effective except to piss them off and maybe sometimes slow them down."

"It sounds like we're talking about fucking zombies," Frank says.

"You watch too many horror movies," Gerard says, smirking at him.

"Says the vampire," Frank retorts.

"What other weapons do you guys use, then?" Mikey asks, refraining from rolling his eyes at the other two.

"Anything with a blade," Joe says.

"And we always keep a stake handy," Andy adds.

"And we used to use other vampire-protection stuff, like, anything religious really," Patrick says, "until Pete..."

"Yeah," Pete says, "it's hard to use stuff against vampires that affect all vampires regardless when you have a vampire on your team."

"So I guess that's even less of an option now, then," Mikey says.

"You guys ruin everything," Frank says, laughing when Gerard, Mikey and Pete all make faces at him.

 

"Are you sure about this?" Gerard asks, watching Frank cross the room from where he's sat on the bed, going through their drawers to find a pair of pyjamas.

"About what?"

"About this...thing with the vampires."

"I'm still going," Frank says, pulling his shirt off to change, "no matter what."

Gerard tries not to look surprised or gasp when he sees Frank's skin; he knows he's still self-conscious about all the marks left by the attack, and always tried to keep a shirt on whenever he could, and Gerard didn't want to make a big deal about it, but it was hard when he had a reminder of what those vampires had done to Frank right in front of him, littered among his tattoos, dark greens and yellows.

"Gerard," Frank says, sighing when he turns and sees Gerard's face, "please don't, it's not that bad anymore-"

"Maybe we should ask the others to postpone it," Gerard says, getting up and off of the bed to stand in front of Frank, "wait until you get better."

"I _am_ better," Frank says, "it's fine, it's not even that bad."

"How are your ribs?"

"They're fine, they don't even hurt anymore."

"Frank," Gerard says, knowing it's a complete lie, looking down at the bruise across his chest, the only one still a dark blue, brushing his fingers over it gently, then moving his hand away quickly when he sees Frank flinch, "what did they _do_?"

"It's not- it's nothing, it wasn't that bad."

"Seriously, Frank."

"I'd been knocked down, and they just-" Frank says, taking a deep breath, "started fucking...kicking me."

"Where?"

"Everywhere. Mostly my chest and stomach, hence the," he says, gesturing at the dark bruise. "They only stopped when I threw up and started coughing up fucking blood."

"Fucking hell," Gerard says, clenching his jaw, and he's sure he could kill the three that attacked Frank without even blinking. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Frank nods, not looking very convincing.

"You don't have to do this," Gerard says, "you can stay behind."

Frank shakes his head, "I want to do this."

"Are you sure?" Gerard asks; if he was Frank he wouldn't want to go anywhere near the people who attacked him ever again, especially choose to go where they could attack him again, or even kill him.

But Frank just nods again, starting to look as determined as before, "Definitely."

 

"Are you guys sure you don't need more time? You definitely know everything?" Patrick asks Gerard, Mikey and Frank, as the other three are loading up a couple of duffle bags.

"Well, we're not using guns or anything," Mikey says, "and I'm pretty sure you guys have taught us enough about all these knives and crap," he says; the three of them had spent a couple of hours listening to the other four explain things and try and teach them as much as they can before they went that afternoon to where they knew the vampires all lived, which they were preparing for now.

"Is everything ready?" Patrick asks Pete, and Gerard can see the two of them are more comfortable with each other again, and they're definitely not avoiding each other anymore, but Gerard doesn't know if anything has actually happened between them yet, and he makes a mental note to remember to ask one of them when they're finally gonna suck it up and get together, if he makes it through the night.

"I think so," Pete says, "let's do this."

 

They pull up outside the large, old house, looking like it came straight out of the 1800s, just like the vampires that inhabit it. The sun is bright, high in the sky, and neither Gerard, Pete or Mikey look particularly happy about it, but they all decided that it's best to go in the day, when they'd all be inside, because even if it meant there would be more vampires to fight, it also meant they could get all of them, and not leave any alive to try and get revenge in the years to come.

They all load themselves up with weapons, Gerard making sure he only picks things he actually knows how to use, then he looks over at Frank, making sure he's still okay.

"Are you sure about this? You can still change your mind," Gerard says, quiet enough so that only he can hear.

Frank nods, "I love you," he says, leaning forward to kiss Gerard, still close-mouthed and innocent, but somehow with an edge of desperation, "please don't let yourself get killed," he says when he pulls away.

"I won't."

" _Promise_ me you won't die," Frank says, "they're gonna want to kill you the most."

"I promise, I'll be okay," Gerard says, "don't get yourself hurt. Or killed, either."

Frank nods, looking back to everyone else.

“Ready for this?” Joe asks, looking round at everyone, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Frank nods, looking just as excited, “Let’s kick some vampire ass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could say I know when the sequel's coming but I honestly don't. I've already written the majority of the first chapter but I still have quite a bit of planning to do so I'll try my best & hopefully I'll be able to upload chapter one soon. Though I just wanna say thank you to all of you for reading this and to anyone who left kudos or comments because I hugely appreciate it and I never imagined anyone would love this as much as I know some of you do.


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